The Lake
by ScribbleDibble
Summary: A good teen story--I hope! Takes place the summer before tenth grade. I hope you like it.
1. Chapter One: Summer Plans

(Clouds form overhead)  
  
(lightning strikes)  
  
(Scribbledibble's insane face with her new crimson spikey hair appears with an eery smile and she says...)  
  
"AwwwwwwyouthoughttherewouldbenomoreFDstoriesbutheresANOTHER!!!!!"  
  
(Isaac playing guitar: Duh na nuh! Duh na nuh!)  
  
-----------  
  
Aw man aw man aw man... DONT EVER LET ME LEAVE THE SAFETY OF MY OWN HOME AGAIN! I missed everything so much and camp sucked royally (cept I had fun with the guys... girls are so annoying) and I was mad cause I had the worlds awesomest story idea and couldn't write it.  
  
Here is my story--it is not a prequel to anything, in fact, its royally f**ked up! I only left a few things the same from my other stories. (eg Clear's parents) It has nothing to do with death and premonitions and such, it takes place the summer before grade ten and the gang goes on a crazy excursion... ten points to anyone who can guess the outcome...  
  
God, I missed you people.  
  
Notes of stoopassery: all of Chapter One is in journal format. The following characters are mine: Colin, Clear's stepgrandmother, Carter's cousin, and Terry's friend Erica.  
  
Chapter One  
  
Alex Browning  
  
Dumb things I have to do today:  
  
1. Convince Mom and Dad to let me go with the Waggners to their cabin for two weeks instead of going to see Uncle Victor in Connecticut.  
  
2. Prove to them I'm responsible by cleaning my room.  
  
3. Wash my best shirts so I have stuff to wear.  
  
4. Buy Tod and George birthday presents. (Maybe a computer game for Tod and that cool chain I saw at Caveau for Geore.)  
  
5. Mow lawns of neighbores to get some more money so I can actually afford those things.  
  
Articles from the above list I will probably succeed at today:  
  
... uh... help?  
  
---  
  
Clear Rivers  
  
Yesterday was the most terrible, nausiating, wretched, fucked up day in my whole shitty life.  
  
I don't know why I'm still shocked that Mom married Colin, they were engaged for six months, it's just that even to yesterday something in me was hoping that Mom would get ahold of herself and realize that she can't marry this jerk. Yesterday, my worst nightmare came true. She actually married the world's biggest deadbeat.  
  
The best part of the wedding was when I talked to some boy from Colin's family--his name was Mike. He might have been a distant cousin or something, I'm not sure. All I know was he was sixteen. Anyway, it turned sucky when he said that Colin has some other kids in Michigan that he never contacts, and a trail of ex-wives a mile long.  
  
Then, to top everything off, Aunt Peggy made me sing 'Endless Love' at the reception. Not only do I hate that song, but how could I sing that song when it said the complete opposite of Colin and Mom?  
  
To make things worse, Mom and Step-Daddy-Dearest are going on their honeymoon in the Dominican tomorrow, so, I figure, alright. I'm fifteen (well, I will be in a week), it's just for two weeks. I cook better than anyone I know, so why is it a problem, right?  
  
Well, Mom decided I should stay with Colin's mother. Okay, she's a really sweet lady, but she is nearly 100 (okay... she's in her 70s... but so what?) living on this tiny shack on Iroqouis Lake. I can see it right now. Every morning, waking up in a tiny twin bed, being fed a past of a breakfast by my dear "grandma."  
  
Life is just grand, isn't it?  
  
---  
  
Carter Horton  
  
I must say, I am a genius. I really am. I use 100% of my brain. I have a mind that truly won't quit. In a matter of one hour, I just pulled together the party of the year. God, Mom didn't know what she was thinking when she told me I could go to Iroquois Lake with cousin Mark. He and I spent an hour on the phone (okay, I know, that's a girl thing, but it was for something important!) discussing how to plan this huge party.  
  
I know he's 22, but we get along awesomely. I always thought that he saw me as some pesky 14-year-old who's never been drunk before, but I guess I was wrong. He told me I can help him plan his big summer party, and even invite a few people. He also told me that I can try a Loaded Soda. I pretended it was no big deal and that I have coolers all the time, even though I never touched anything alcoholic in my life.  
  
So--who sould I invite? All I know is who NOT to invite. Alex Browning (Fag! Fag!) Tod and George Wanker--er, Waggner, Baby Billy Hitchcock, and Crystal Ocean or whatever her name is. You know, that hippy that moved here in winter? Everyone in grade nine is so immature. All I know to ivite are girls. Like Christa Gordon... mmmmm. Yummy!  
  
And guess who I ran into at CD World today? Give up? Terry Chaney! I haven't seen her since she left for vacation at the end of May. I didn't know a person could change so much in a month! To think, the class tub is now a total babe. She must have gotten contact lenses. Colored ones too. Oh, and dyed her hair (it's blonde--the kind I like!) lost a LOT of weight, got rid of her acne... not to mention she totally "upped her cups."  
  
I am the luckiest fucker in the world.  
  
---  
  
Terry Chaney  
  
I am so mad!  
  
I ran into Carter at CD World today. Gorgeous Carter Horton. He talked to me like I was, er, one of his friends! He kept looking at my stomach and my hair. He must think I look like such a thin, gangly freak now. He can't know that I was at Fat Camp. If he did, I would just die! Maybe that's what I should be doing. I look awfull.  
  
Anyways, he kept talking about this party he and his cousin were planning at Iroquois Lake. Great. That just happens to be where I'm going camping with Erica. He'll probably make fun of me the whole time, making sure his cousin knows what a freak I am.  
  
They'll all get a kick out of me. Terry "skeleton" Chaney. I look like a stick-man. 


	2. Chapter Two: On The Road

Chapter Two  
  
Alex Browning went over his checklist in his head. Bed made? Check. Garbage can doing it's actual job? Check. Closet straightened out? Check. Dead goldfish scraped out of aquarium? Check. Desk clean? Check.  
  
Alex then looked into his mirror at his own reflection. His face was still burning from his swipe of Oxy pads which he had never used. His hair, for once, was not oily. He had put on clothes that were actually ironed. He smelled... well, he DIDN'T smell. That was important.  
  
He opened his oak door a crack. "Mom?" he called down the hall, "Can you come here for a sec?"  
  
His mom trotted down the hall towards him. "What is it honey?" she asked perkily, poking her head into the door. Her jaw nearly hit the clean floor at the sight of his former disaster warning, which was now spic and span. Opening the door fully, she glared at Alex. Hands on hips, she rolled her eyes and asked bluntly, "You don't want to go to Connecticut, do you?"  
  
Alex shrugged. "Couldn't tell?"  
  
"Why don't you want to do! You used to love Uncle Victor, and seeing all your cousins..."  
  
"My cousins are all in university, Mom," Alex groaned, "They hate me. Besides, I would really like to go to Iroqouis Lake with Tod and George. It's just for two weeks." He looked at his mom, who was lowering her eyebrows. Quickly, he added, "Their parents will be there. Remember? They have that really nice cottage? I mean, we're just going to be doing stuff like swimming and fishing... and it's their birthday. Doesn't that mean anything?"  
  
"Okay," his mom said quickly, "You can go."  
  
"Why not?!" Alex demanded, standing up, "You never let me do any... wait, did you just say I COULD go?"  
  
His mom smiled. "Alex, I know you didn't want to see Uncle Victor. If you want to go with the Waggners, just make sure it's okay with them. I won't hold you back."  
  
Alex blushed. He muttered, "Thanks, Mom." She walked out of his room slowly. The second the door shut, he squealed, jumped up and down, turned up his stereo, began dancing around victoriously, and shouted, "Yes! Yes! Jackpot!"  
  
***  
  
Clear stepped out of the taxi cab, handing the driver his money. The 5'5 skinny brunette gazed at the small cottage atop the hill. It had a small deck, small windows, and a small roof. This place was... small.  
  
The homely cab driver grunted for her to hurry up. In response, she got her bag out of the trunk, and walked grudgingly up the hill.  
  
Colin's mom was waiting at the door. Whisps of her dark grey hair stuck out from under the towel around her hair and she was wearing a housecoat. Clear looked at her watch. It was only 4 in the afternoon! This lady was already bathed and stuff... she would probably call Clear a night owl if she found her awake at eight o'clock!  
  
"Hello, Clear!" she exclaimed, giving Clear a big hug, having to stand on tiptoe to do it.  
  
Clear had to smile at this. "Hi, Mrs. Pratt," she returned the greeting.  
  
"Oh," Mrs. Pratt said, flinging her wrist out, "Call me Maralynn. Or Grandma. Whichever you prefer." She had an eager grin.  
  
Clear, feeling slightly guilty, began to walk into the tiny house. "Thanks, Maralynn," she replied, emphasizing the fact that this woman was not her grandma. She looked around her. The place was sacharine sweet. Cotton-candy pink walls with white lace curtains hanging on the windows. A flowery tablecloth was placed on what Clear guessed was the table, even though it was only slightly bigger than her desk at school. Even the fridge had hints of pink.  
  
Clear walked closer to the fridge, squinting at the picture of her that had been placed on Maralynn's fridge. It was her grade eight grad picture. She remembered those days. The one time her mom had let her dye her hair. It turned out a yucky blonde and came out in about three washes. She had a phony smile with braces, and her freckles were slightly more visible in those days.  
  
Those days? It was a little less than a year ago! Still, why did Maralynn have this picture? This picture where Clear was in the same blue robe as everyone else, smiling, posed, exactly the way everyone else was. Did this woman even know anything about her? What would she tell people when they came in? "That's Colin's stepdaughter, Clear. Uh... that's all I know."  
  
The thought made Clear shudder. "What's wrong, dear?" Maralynn asked, putting her hand on her shoulder, "Is it too chilly?"  
  
Clear shook her head. She was boiling hot, actually. But she didn't bother telling Maralynn that. Instead, she said, "I'm just thinking about... something gross that happened on the last day of school."  
  
She blushed at her lame explanation.  
  
"Well," Maralynn said, shrugging, "I didn't get a chance to get groceries, so I hope you can handle tomato soup for tonight. Unless you know something?" Clear almost smiled, until she read Maralynn's expression that she really didn't expect Clear to make supper--and she clearly wanted it that way.  
  
Still, Clear stuck out her chin. "Maybe I could make some gaspaco. Have you ever had it before?"  
  
Maralynn's face sunk, obviously dissapointed at Clear's independant thought. "Er, last time I ate gaspaco," she began, pronouncing carefully, even though Clear knew that she had no idea what gaspaco was, "I broke out in hives."  
  
Rather than argue, Clear smiled and walked down the hallway. There were three doors. One was the bathroom. "Which one is my room?" she asked Maralynn, who was getting the soup out.  
  
"On the left!" Maralynn sang out.  
  
Clear rolled her eyes, called a thank you, and walked into the tiny room.  
  
It was a bed-length across, possible smaller, because the small bunkbed looked like it was squashed into it. The window, mostly covered by the top matress, was small, and full of dead bugs. It had a tiny dresser and a musty smell. Clear, not wanting to fuss, closed her eyes and imagined it as a gorgeous, sprawling room.  
  
One that she would never have.  
  
***  
  
Terry Chaney had been in her bathroom for an hour, staring into the mirror. Not at her newly zit-free face. Not at her bleach blonde hair. Botht those things were great. She was looking at her sick-thin stomach. And at how much she hated it.  
  
It was one thing to leave school early to go on her "road trip." Everyone must have gotten along so much better without her. But what would they expect when they saw her? That she lost 60 pounds on a road trip? You don't leave school at 175 and come back at 115. Everyone would know she was at the "special camp" her mom had told her about that one night. Terry remembered it like it was yesterday...  
  
She had been sitting at her computer, listening to music, laughing at some joke on the net, when her mom came in and announced that she had arranged a new way for Terry to lose weight. Terry had been through her share of freak diets, and nothing had worked. But when her mom announced her plans, she freaked.  
  
Now she was even more freaked. Her rib cage was visible again. A tear slipped down her cheek. She almost wished she was ugly again. Imagine the teasing she would get from Carter Horton at the lake.  
  
But maybe if she was lucky, he wouldn't recognize her. He had hardly recognized her at the CD store that day.  
  
She had only had a crush on Carter forever. She had always thought she would never be anything more than Terry the fatass to him. But she almost liked it that way. She imagined her crush fading, being completely gone by the end of high school. Then she would get into a good college, and meet a guy who liked her for who she was. Her personality used to be all she had.  
  
She shook her head, shuddering at the thought of getting some creep who only wanted her for her body. She should have been on the road with her best friend, Erica, ten minutes ago. Erica was a junior, an outcast, as well as Terry. She was waiting in her car patiently while Terry kept promising, "Just a minute!"  
  
Terry struggled into a new t-shirt, which was possible a size too small. "Damn C cups," she muttered.  
  
She finally emergred from her house, carrying two large bags. Erica looked at her from the driver's seat.  
  
"Hi, Skeletore," she muttered jokingly.  
  
A tear slipped down Terry's cheek, but Erica didn't see. She just began to drive in silence. The whole way there, she kept thinking to herself, 'It was just a joke. It was just a joke. It was just a joke...' 


	3. Chapter Three: The Best Birthday

Chapter Three  
  
"I'm gonna lay down my sword and shield," Tod Waggner sang off-key, "Down by the riverside. Down by the riverside. Down by the--"  
  
"Shut the hell up!" his fraternal twin, George, exclaimed, "You suck!" Tod responded by pretending to whack his brother in the face.  
  
"Come on, George," Mr. Waggner sighed, "He can't be that bad."  
  
"No," Alex cut in, "He really sucks. Sorry to say this."  
  
The four were riding in the Waggner's minivan, listening to some stupid folk song station. They were on the way to Iroqouis Lake, ready for two weeks of sand, sun, and, uh... instert noun beginning with 's' here.  
  
Alex gazed out the window, where everything was becomming full of trees. The sun shot through every few feet, and at the speed Mr. Waggner was driving down the dirt road, it made the inside of the van feel like a strobe light. He closed his eyes, feeling sick to his stomach. He couldn't possibly hold in his McDonalds' lunch if Mr. Waggner went over another huge bump.  
  
Tod noticed this and patted his best friend on the back. "Hold it in, man. Hold it in."  
  
Fortunately, a minute later, Mr. Waggner rolled to a stop into a more flat area. Just a little bit of grass, wet sand, a dock, the Waggner's cottage sitting nestled in between two huge trees... this was Iroquois Lake. Alex remembered the first day he had ever been here. His dad had taken him on a fishing trip when he was five. That day, he had met Tod and George, his current best friends. This was a pretty special place to him.  
  
Tod whacked him on the chest. "Hurry up, man! Get out!"  
  
"Tod, grow up!" George scolded.  
  
The four got out of the van and began bringing their things up to the cabin. The familiar, salty smell creeped up Alex's nostrils. Tod nudged him. "Come on, man! Go!"  
  
Alex rolled his eyes and they made their way to the bedroom. Alex tossed his suitcase onto the top bunk of the bed. "Hey, no fair!" Tod exclaimed.  
  
George quietly took the single bed. "You gotta act your age, Tod."  
  
Tod smiled with pride. "And you're so much better than me because you're seven minutes older? Besides... July 10th. Finally fifteen."  
  
"What's so great about being fifteen?" Alex demanded, who only celebrated his birthday in September, "I mean, the best birthdays are 13, 16, 18, and 21. What makes this one special?"  
  
Tod's grin dropped. "Er, well... driver's ed?"  
  
George scoffed and shook his head with a smile. "Dear brother," he lectured jokingly, "In seven minutes, when you are as old as I am now, you will understand the greatness of being old and wise."  
  
Tod's response was throwing a pillow at George.  
  
Alex smiled, knowing this would be two weeks to remember.  
  
***  
  
"No way," Carter muttered under his breath, looking up at his big cousin, Mark, "Tod and George Wanker are here."  
  
Mark smirked. Carter was staring angrily at their minivan. "Who cares about them?" he asked, "I rented us this sweet cabin. And tomorrow, my friend Dozer is comming. He's a party god." Carter looked up at him admiringly.  
  
"Yeah," Carter agreed, trying to sound mature, "I have some people I want to invite. There's these three really hot girls... Blake McCallister, Christa Gordon, and, er, Terry Chaney. They would be a blast."  
  
Mark shrugged. "How old are they?"  
  
Carter pretended to be casual. "I dunno. Maybe 16," he lied.  
  
Mark's response was punching Carter on the shoulder and telling him, "Get your stuff in the cabin. Your room is the one with the broken door."  
  
Carter gulped. So far, nothing was quite what he thought it would be.  
  
***  
  
Terry ducked her head down in the car while they drove along the beach. Erica laughed at her. "What's wrong?" she asked, "Car-sickness?"  
  
Terry slowly brought her head up and shook it. "Carter Horton."  
  
Erica looked back, to where she saw two guys, one younger than her, and one older. "The shorter one?"  
  
"Yeah. I've had a crush on him forever."  
  
"So?" Erica asked, shrugging, "Now that you're skinny, he'll treat you like..." she trailed off, realizing Terry was upset by her skinny comment. "Ter, all I'm saying is that people who are skinny get more respect than fatasses like me."  
  
The car stopped. Terry looked at her friend, pained. "So why did you call me Skeletor?"  
  
Erica blushed. "It was a joke..."  
  
"Not a funny one," Terry muttered, slamming the door.  
  
***  
  
Billy Hitchcock gazed at the familiar blonde that had just walked out of her car. He knew he should have been paying attention to what his supervisor was telling him, but he was really going mad trying to figure out who this person was... who cared if he missed the instructions on the slushie machine, or how to open the cash register?  
  
"Billy!" the older guy warned, "Are you paying attention?"  
  
"Yeah," he signed, turning his attention back to the small tuck shop he had a job at for the summer. It was about a third the size of his room. For the next week he would be working here nonstop, open 'till close, morning 'till night... he considered himself lucky he wasn't still working at Arby's, though. "So, what about discounts?" he asked eagerly, "I mean, do employees get anything free?"  
  
His supervisor sighed heavily. "You get a free six-inch sub and slush puppie every day."  
  
Billy grinned. "Shibby!"  
  
"STOP SAYING THAT!"  
  
Billy rolled his eyes. "Man, you have to loosen up." He poured himself a blue raspberry slush puppy, spilling some onto the ground in the process. He noticed the supervisor crossing his arms and muttering something to himself.  
  
"Billy," he told him, "You're not going to last two days here."  
  
Billy was now caught off guard by the hot blonde, who was walking closer to him. The face was so familiar... oh, wow! It was Terry Chaney! Formerly known as The Blob! Was he losing his eyesight, or had she shrunk? And... he looked at her chest... she also "grew."  
  
He smiled politely. "Terry!" he exclaimed when she reached the counter, "What can I do to you--er, do for you?"  
  
Terry blushed. "Can I have a Pina Colada slushie?" she asked meekly.  
  
Billy smiled stupidly. "Sure." He poured her one sloppily, handed it over with shaky hands, and accepted her money. He managed to get the register opened, he just slammed his fingers in it while closing it. Terry laughed at this, but in a cute shy way.  
  
"So," Billy conversed, leaning on the counter, "What brings you here this summer?"  
  
"I'm just camping out. You know, getting out of the house, have a little fun for once..."  
  
"Cool!" Billy exclaimed, maybe too eagerly, "With who? Anyone I know?"  
  
"Er, well, Erica Hannamn is with me. And I saw Carter here somewhere."  
  
Billy's big eyes widened. "Carter Horton?"  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Shit." 


	4. Chapter Four: Night Owl

Chapter Four  
  
"How is the soup, dear?"  
  
Clear stared across the tiny table at Maralynn, who was looking at her expectantly. Clear could read her thoughts. 'If she doesn't like it, I'll just die.' So, she put on a toothy grin and said, "It's awesome," even though A, she was sure Maralynn didn't know what awesome meant, and B, the 'soup' was nothing more than glorified tomato water.  
  
Maralynn smiled at this and went back to her soup. Clear sipped a few spoonfulls down and drowned the taste with a swig of skim milk. Then, she politely excused herself from the table and went to the bedroom.  
  
It was funny. Clear had tried and tried to think of this place as 'her' bedroom, 'her' bed, and she even tried to think of Maralynn as her 'grandmother.' But it was no use. These things would always be just... there.  
  
She reached under the bed and pulled out the one thing that she could call hers. Her guitar. It was very special to her. When she was ten, her dad tought her how to play guitar, but his broke just a month before he died. Rather than buying a new one, her sixth grade shop teacher showed her how to make her own. It had taken almost three months, and she had wasted a lot of wood, but she had finally made her own. She played it all the time, and wrote songs that explained how she was feeling on the inside.  
  
Mostly, they were sad songs.  
  
Not even knowing what she was doing, she strummed a few random chords that sounded nice together. Then she added in a relative minor chord... then she began singing out one of the poems she had written that week. She closed her eyes, trying hard to "feel" the music. But in this sterril, musty environment, nothing was natural for her.  
  
"Clear?" Maralynn suddenly asked, comming in the room without bothering to knock, "I like hearing you sing."  
  
Clear blushed. "That's... nice."  
  
"Could you sing 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' for me?" she asked, sitting down on the tiny chair that lay in the room. "I love that song."  
  
Clear shrugged. She knew how to play and sing that song, she just hated it. But, without a word of defiance, she began playing it.  
  
'Maybe,' Clear thought while she was playing, 'If I play nicely enough, she will fall asleep and I can get out of here.'  
  
But Maralynn didn't fall asleep. She just kept right on listening until the end. When she was done, she clapped wildly like an old woman on Price Is Right. "That was wonderful! I'm going to go to my room and watch some TV. Feel free to read or something, just be in bed soon."  
  
Clear nodded. She watched as Maralynn puttered out of the room. She second she shut the door, Clear dropped her guitar and squeezed herself through the window.  
  
***  
  
George, Tod, and Alex were walking around the lake that night after supper, looking for things to do. "I swear," Tod was muttering, "There's a soccer field around here."  
  
George mumbled an agreement and looked to the side. Up the hill, in some old woman's cottage, he saw a pair of black Doc Martens slip out one of the windows. The boots were followed by a pair of brown corduroy pants and a blue tank top. To top it off was a headfull of straight auburn hair.  
  
"Guys," he whispered, "That girl looks familiar."  
  
Tod squinted at the figure, which was now on the floor and jogging to the side of the cabin. "That's Clear Rivers. Remember, that new girl?"  
  
Clear glanced around, clearly seeing the three boys. Did she know who they were? Tod, wanting to get her attention, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Hey, Clear! Over here!"  
  
Clear started daggers at him and marched over there. "Shut up!" she exclaimed, "Er... Tod, or George... whichever."  
  
George stepped forward. "I'm George," he confirmed. No one ever had trouble telling them apart anymore, they looked very different. But Clear was pretty much antisocial and never bothered getting to know anyone when she moved to Mount Aberham.  
  
"Yeah, I thought so... uh, you guys should be quiet. Maralynn will freak if she finds out I'm here."  
  
Alex looked at his watch. "Clear? It's only eight thirty."  
  
Clear rolled her eyes. "Duh. But Maralynn thinks little baby Clear is staying out past her beddy-bye time." Even Clear found herself shocked at how angry she sounded. "Er--Maralynn is my stepgrandmother," she explained.  
  
Tod shrugged. "Cool. How long have you been here?"  
  
"Just got here today," she muttered quickly.  
  
"Same here."  
  
They stood in silence awkwardly. Then George twisted his foot in the ground. "We were just going to go hang out at the soccer field. Want to come?"  
  
Clear looked around at the red sky. Then back at her already dark cabin. She smelled barbacue somewhere in the distance. She hated mean, but it was better than the musty smell of Maralynn's cottage. "Sure," she said with a smile, "I could use some excitement."  
  
The four walked, making small talk. Then Tod and George mentioned their birthday. "We should have a party," George decided. "I mean, we have a week. We can invite some people from here. I hear Billy Hitchcock is working at the tuck shop. And we have Clear," he added, winking, "By then you'll have perfected sneaking out."  
  
Clear blushed. "When's your birthday?" she asked, thinking of her own.  
  
"The 10th," they both answered.  
  
Clear grinned. "Wow! Mine, too!"  
  
They all laughed and made comments at this and continued walking to the soccer field. When they reached it, they were shocked at who they saw there.  
  
***  
  
Carter rocked back and forth on the wooden bleachers. So far, the day had not been all that great. Mark had ditched him for some girl he met at the beach and left him to have "supper" by himself. Carter, though, had no idea how to cook and had to see Billy Hitchcock at the tuck shop when he bought a sub.  
  
Carter had to smile at the thought of naive little Billy mistaking Carter's 5 dollar bill for a 10. But he sighed again, thinking of how much he wanted to see Terry Chaney. Was she bullshitting when she said she would be at the lake? He had to admit, he had never payed that much attention to her before. But this was different. Very different.  
  
Four people walked onto the field in the distance. He stared at them. One of them was a girl... but it wasn't Terry. Oh, man, it was Queer Rivers. Hippy Chick herself. And she was with Alex the Fag and the Wanker twins. Combined with seeing Billy at the tuck shop, this place was turning into Losers on Parade.  
  
The four got closer, obviously seeing him. Tod, the idiot that he was, actually called out, "Hey, Horton!"  
  
Carter slid out of his seat and approached the little gang. "What do you guys want?" he asked with a snarl.  
  
Clear blushed and looked away. She was always a wimp, Carter thought. Alex just rolled his eyes and said, "Can't we come here, too? Or are you and all your friends ruling this little field right now?" He looked around. "Wait a minute," he began sarcastically, "I don't see your little possee around here!"  
  
Carter huffed and wound up his fist. Releasing, he was ready to punch Alex when Clear stepped between them. "Don't touch him, asshole," she said fiercly.  
  
Carter's fist stopped. For a second, he considered punching Clear, but he couldn't bring himself to hit a girl. "Look," he mocked instead, "Browning's got himself a girlfriend."  
  
George and Tod rolled their eyes while Clear and Alex blushed. Then Clear looked up at the sky. "You know, I think I should go." Then she ran off, tripping on her pants as she went.  
  
Alex began to run after her, but Carter grabbed his shirt. "Where are you going, pussy?" he asked him toughly. Alex lunged his fist at the bully, but Carter was faster than him. He socked Alex in the eye.  
  
Alex, trying to mask his blinding pain, pushed Carter down. The two rolled all over the ground, beating the shit out of each other. Both Tod and George had to pry them apart. Standing up, they saw that Alex already had a black eye forming while Carter had a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his lip.  
  
Carter spat onto the ground. "I'll get you for this, Browning," he warned, stalking off.  
  
Alex stared into the distance, not looking at either Carter or his friends. Finally, he turned around and walked back to the cabin in silence. 


	5. Chapter Five: A Place to Stay

Chapter Five  
  
Journals:  
  
Billy Hitchcock  
  
I just closed up all the cabinets and stuff in the shop. The night is totally dead and lonely, I don't even know how I'll get home. Mr. Baker left me two hours ago because I was getting the hang of it--finally! I actually wish I was still being a klutz so that I would have someone to bum a ride off of. Maybe I can arrange something with Terry...  
  
Shut up, Billy!  
  
Erg. Ever since I saw Terry this afternoon, I realized how much I like her. I mean, not just because she's got a huge chest now, or because she's a stick. I've always liked her, really, I just never realized it. Like she actually laughs at my jokes, and she's as big an outcast as me, I guess. I wonder what she'll be like at school now that she's... skinny.  
  
Either way, I'll probably just sleep here in the shop. Or maybe I could find the Waggner's cottage and crash there. I don't think they're there. Maybe that wouldn't be a bad idea.  
  
---  
  
Carter Horton  
  
Browning actually think he hurt me? Yeah, right.  
  
I'll tell you what hurt. Comming through the door with a bloodied face in front of Mark, who was making out with his fling, Danielle. Then he had to go all concerned on me, meanwhile, I'm not sure what's more red--the blood on my lip or my cheeks. So, naturally, I slam the door of my room, and, of course, I remember two seconds after it falls down that it's broken. So Mark tapes a beach towel to the top of the frame, and while I'm trying to drown them out with my discman, I can still hear Danielle's shrill, high-pitched giggling.  
  
Tomorrow everything will be better. Mark has already set things up for the party. Dozer already dropped off a few packs of Loaded Sodas. Then he's going to teach me how to make an electric popsicle. That'll be sweet...  
  
---  
  
George Waggner  
  
Holy crap, Clear Rivers is hot.  
  
---  
  
Tod Waggner  
  
Holy crap, George is crushing on Clear Rivers.  
  
---  
  
Alex Browning  
  
Holy crap, and I thought this day wouldn't get any weirder, Billy Hitchcock just fell through the window.  
  
---  
  
"Billy?" George and Alex asked at the same time. Tod was speechless, something that happened rarely. Perhaps it was because one of his classmates had just fallen through the window of HIS cottage, seeing him in HIS boxers...  
  
"Tod? George? Alex? What in all holy hell are you doing here?"  
  
Alex crossed his arms over his chest. "Dumbass," he muttered, "It's THEIR cottage. What the fark are YOU doing here?"  
  
Billy blushed. "I, er... I had to find some place to crash." He looked from side to side at their angry faces. "I couldn't get home! What did you want me to do? Sleep on the floating dock?"  
  
Tod and Alex exchanged sinister glances. "Maybe that wouldn't be a bad idea."  
  
Billy shook his head. "No way, man! Just let me sleep here for the night! I have nowhere to go! I'll be gone by seven tomorrow..."  
  
Tod held up his hands. "Fine. But you're sleeping on the floor."  
  
***  
  
Terry and Erica giggled inside their tent, reading a stupid, superficial magazine, mocking the interviewed celebrities. Terry pointed at a picture of Jennifer Lopez. "We could all look as good as her," Terry began sarcastically, "If we had fat lyposuctioned out of our stomach and put into our ass and boobs."  
  
Erica rolled her eyes. "Totally. I guess no one can be naturally skinny anymore. That would be a impossible. Come on, Terry, you don't think some people will resent you because you're skinny?"  
  
Terry glared at her. "Like you?"  
  
"Er... well, I mean, once you get back to school, people are going to be jealous. And you know that it's not your fault, right?"  
  
"Right. So you're saying that I shouldn't be ashamed of being skinny?"  
  
"Duh! Live it up! I mean, I wuld kill for a bod like yours, but what am I going to do? Build a machine that makes me skinny and you fat? Just let yourself go! Grab that Horton guy while you still can! He is SO yummy."  
  
Terry blushed. "Yeah... Carter... He's pretty awesome."  
  
Erica cocked her head. "You... you don't like him? Haven't you had a crush on him forever?" she asked, mimicking the way Terry had gushed about him that afternoon when they had arrived at the lake.  
  
"Yeah, I would give anything to go out with him, but there's someone else," she mused. "I just like someone else." She was fire-engine red by now, hoping Erica would leave it alone.  
  
But instead, Erica kept pushing. "Who is it? Is it... Alex Browning?"  
  
Terry shook her head and pulled her sleeping bag over her face. "Good night, Erica."  
  
Erica kept pressing her like a waffle iron. "Tod? Adrian? James? George? Oh, wait, was it that nerdy boy from the snack shop?"  
  
Terry hoped that the pillow over her face was enough to conceal her blushing.  
  
***  
  
"Carter!" Mark hollered the next morning, "Wake up, man!"  
  
Carter rolled over on his cot, the sun hitting his eyes like a cannon ball. Mark was standing over him, adjusting the blinds so that the sunlight went straight into his poor cousin's eyes. "What?" Carter moaned.  
  
Mark yanked the comforter off of Carter, revealing his Futurama boxer shorts. "Dozer will be here any minute!"  
  
Carter sat up stiffly and stared at his clock. "It's six thirty!" he protested, pulling the blanked over his shoulders, "What the hell would this guy be doing here at this hour?"  
  
"Duh!" Mark insisted, rolling his eyes, "He's only been driving all night! He phoned me about two minutes ago. He's about fifteen minutes from the lake!"  
  
Carter shook his head. This was not happening. "How are we going to have a party tonight if we can't stay awake? I'll be conked out by midnight!"  
  
"Midnight? Are you kidding? The party will just be underway by then! Besides, two words for you, my cousin: spiked coffee."  
  
Carter admitted defeat and slipped out of bed, shoving himself into a t-shirt. "You'll pay for this, man," he murmured, passing through his "door." He saw Danielle sleeping on the couch. "She's still here, man?" he asked, staring at the blonde. She stirred in her slumber.  
  
Mark was fixing a kettle of coffee. Carter gazed up at his cousin's bare chest and a glint of something hit his eyes. It was silver and shiny... woah. Mark had a nipple ring!  
  
"She needed someplace to stay. She doesn't really have a home. Like, she's like a really hot drifter. Only she just stays on the beach."  
  
Carter shook his head disaprovingly. "Does it bug you that she basically used you? Like, you two suck face for two hours and then you're her hotel?"  
  
Mark glared at him. "Piss off." 


	6. Chapter Six: Come to my Window

Note of sweetassery: Sparkling Diamond, you are too kind! You have encouraged me to write over my hurting, callaced fingers. (Don't worry, it's not from typing! It's from guitar!) Now it is my intention to sit down and play video games for several hours. (For joke behind this, go to http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail64.html)  
  
Chapter Six  
  
When Billy woke up that morning with the rug pattern embedded into his cheek, he had a hard time figuring out where he was. It had a salty smell, so that meant he was near water. He heard snoring, so that meant he was with someone else was with him. And when he saw a long foot hanging over his face with a hemp anklet, he knew. He was with the Waggners. Sitting up, he remembered he was still in the wrinkled sweater from yesterday, and, looking at his watch, he also realized he had five minutes to get to work.  
  
Stretching, yawning, he tiptoed out of the bedroom and stretched the wrinkles out of his shirt. He looked around hoping Mr. Waggner wouldn't see him. But no such luck. Tod and George's greyish-haired father was in the kitchenette, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and pouring himself a bowl of shredded wheat. He turned around to see Billy dashing to the door.  
  
"Oh, hi... Billy." Mr. Waggner's big eyes were darting from side to side, as if to say, 'Where did YOU get in from?'  
  
Billy nodded. Then, face hot with embarassment, he sprinted out the door.  
  
The sand was wet and dewy, the air damp and misty. Billy's Nikes sunk into the sand slowly, leaving a clear imprint. He hoped Carter Horton didn't come out this early, with his luck he would follow the tracks like a hunter and pound the pulp out of Billy before he even got to work. Life was just like that for Billy.  
  
He smiled at the thought of the dimwitted Carter leaning close to the ground where the shoe marks were, stroking a rifle and saying, "Be vewy vewy quiiiiiet... I'm hunting Biwwy..." Then his mind travelled to Loony Tunes and he bangan to laugh.  
  
Of course, Billy, being a guy, was not graced with the ability women have, to do two things at the same time. Caught off guard, he tripped on his shoelace and landed face first in the muddy sand.  
  
For a second, he dreaded lifting his head up. He was so comfortable, he thought, 'I could stay here forever.' With the exception of the sand in his mouth, it was pretty sweet. There was a small burning scratch on his nose, and a tiny spider crawling on his hand, but he just didn't want to get up. He was definately deprived of his sleep last night, with Alex constantly muttering incoherant babble about an Ice Cream truck.  
  
'Mmmmm,' he thought, 'Ice cream...'  
  
"Billy!" someone shouted. It was a girl's voice.  
  
Reluctantly, he turned over. "Yeah?" he mumbled. He opened his eyes to see a mess of blonde curls and a pink tanktop. The face was still unclear, but she was clearly strong, because she was able to yank Billy up by the foot of his sweater.  
  
Billy's eyes finally opened wide enough to see that the blonde beach beauty was Terry Chaney.  
  
"Oh, my gosh, Billy, what happened to you?" she asked, concerned, as she brushed the sand off of his shoulders. "When I came out of my tent and saw you here, I thought you were dead or something!"  
  
That made Billy smile. He took in a deep breath. "Terrythanksalotreallybutihavetogettoworknowoakycatchyoulater! Bye!"  
  
Terry only caught the 'Bye' part and waved mindlessly as Billy dashed to the tuck shop. Turning back towards the tent, she saw Erica peering at her. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Oh my God!" Erica exclaimed, "You actually like him? HIM? He's such a... geek!"  
  
Terry beamed and smiled at her friend. "So am I!"  
  
***  
  
Clear's eyes fluttered open at ten that morning. Her cheeks were pruny under her eyes from crying herself to sleep. She didn't really know why she had cried so much last night, everything was just so unfamiliar to her. Every single thing here reminded her that her dad was dead and her mom had clearly moved on.  
  
She rolled out of bed and realized she was still wearing her hat from last night. Last night? That was almost twelve hours ago! She and Alex and the Waggners walking around the woods, that was great. But when they got to the soccer field? Ugh! Carter Horton, Proffessor Dickhead! What business did he have telling her off when he barely knew her? And saying that she was Alex's girlfriend was SO fourth grade.  
  
"Clear?" Maralynn's peppy voice rang, "Are you up?"  
  
Clearing her throat, Clear put on her best cheery voice and replied, "Yep! I was just... deciding what to wear!"  
  
"Good! I'm going out to see one of my girlfriends at the mall. Would you like to come?"  
  
Clear shuddered at the thought. Like walking through the mall with a few wrinkled prunes would get her anywhere up the social ladder. Pretending she actually had to think about it, she called back, "Uh... you know, I'm kind of tired. I think I'll just go swimming!"  
  
"Okay!" Maralynn shot back, and Clear could tell she was dissapointed, "Just be cafefull!"  
  
'Careful,' Clear thought. Like being carefull would get her anywhere.  
  
She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her face. She tried to think what something she would wear with a guy was. Maybe something sexy? No, how would she hang out with the guys in something like that. Besides, 'sexy' wasn't exactly her middle name. Maybe something a little tomboyish? Really, the most athletic thing Clear had was a baseball hat. Finally, after tossing all her outfits on her bed, she decided on a pair of low-rise jean capris and an orange tank top that said, "In-2-ition." She held her hair back with a blue bandana and slid on her ratty red canvas shoes.  
  
She would never be a fashion maven like Christa, but at least she looked... well, she didn't look like Clear! That was the important thing!  
  
She grabbed a yogourt cup out of the fridge and was eating it while walking towards the door. But before she could even grasp the knob, she was startled by three sharp raps. She peered out the peephole. It was George and Alex! Yes! They were exactly who she wanted to see!  
  
She yanked the door open. "Hi, guys!" she exclaimed, maybe sounding a bit too eager, "What's up?"  
  
George stepped forward. "Our underground sources tell us that Carter Horton is having a huge party tonight," he said with a grin, "And as an early birthday present, we're going to teach you how to crash it."  
  
Clear's eyes widened. "C-c-crash a party?" she stammered. The last party she had ever been to was a slumber party when she was 12! "I, uh, well I don't think I have the guts to do that. And I'm not the smoothest person in the world." She heard a crash in her room. "What was that?" she asked, whirling around. She saw the shock on George's face. Alex ran to her window outside whil George followed her into the bedroom.  
  
Tod was stuck in her window, his head just below the top bunk. "Goddamn it, Clear!" he moaned, "How do you slip through here the way you do?"  
  
Clear couldn't speak. She noticed Tod's superior smirk as his eyes darted around the room, and she quickly tossed her quilt over her bras. "Get out of here, you smarmy dick!" she screamed.  
  
Tod tried to struggle out. "In case you haven't noticed, Clear, I can't!" he grunted.  
  
"George!" they heard Alex yell from outside, "I'm gonna pull him out--you two push him, alright?"  
  
"Right!"  
  
Outside, Alex grabbed ahold of Tod's foot and began to pull with all his might. Clear parked herself on the bed and pushed his shoulder while George smooshed his brother's head. "This. Isn't. Working!" Tod was screaming, "Be more gentle!"  
  
Clear rolled her eyes. With one big push, she shoved his right arm through the window. George, copying her, did the same on the left. Finally, all that was left was his head. Alex took one last big pull and yanked his friend onto the ground. His puny klutz of a friend landed on the grass with a thud.  
  
"Th-th-thanks!" he called with a waver in his voice. Clear shook her head and stuck her head out the window. "Let me give you a little secret, Waggner," she said superiorly, seconds before she slipped gracefully out the window, "You go feet first."  
  
George looked at her admiringly. "I'll take the door," he determined.  
  
***  
  
Chapter is very short, but I think I managed to tide you over, right? Right? Now it is my intention to sit down and play video games for several hours. 


	7. Chapter Seven: Get This Party Started

Chapter Seven  
  
George bounced his basketball up and down, the ball making a loud PING each time it smacked the ground. Everyone watched it with anticipation for George to throw it, as if it were a game of ping pong. Finally, he scooped it up swiftly and shot it into the net. Tod, Alex, and Clear's heads all followed the sailing orange ball. Then Tod stood up abruptly.  
  
"Okay!" he said quickly, "You've gone long enough--my turn!" He lunged at the ball, and his brother pulled it out of the way.  
  
Alex snorted at the brothers' immature antics and grabbed the ball from George. "Lemme show you how it's done," he said with a smirk.  
  
With a cocky grin, he raised the ball over his head, ducked down, and flung it into the air. It didn't even come close to the net. Clear gazing at the fallen ball, stretched up from the picnic table she was sitting on. "Oh, Alex," she sighed, clicking her tongue, "You're pathetic."  
  
He held the ball out to her. "You think this is easy?" he tested, "Try it!"  
  
"Fine," she said stubbornly.  
  
Standing up with her nose high in the air, she grasped the orange ball tightly and leaned towards the net. Why did everyone think she was a sports klutz? She used to play a mean game of basketball in junior high, she just stopped when things had gotten complicated. Filled with pride, she launched the ball smoothly into the air and watched as it surfed through the hole of the net.  
  
"All right!" she cried, holding her hands up in the air. "In your face, Browning!" She did a little victory dance.  
  
George put his arm around her. A million sensations rushed through her. "Clear," he said in a funny voice, "You're all right." She leaned her face towards his. He looked right back at her.  
  
His green eyes burned holes through her brain. At first, Clear thought she couldn't breathe. Her heart almost stopped. It was almost as if George was getting closer to her. But he wasn't. He was just standing next to her, his hand slowly slipping off her shoulder. Her mouth hung open in shock. What had just happened?  
  
George's mouth was also gaping. But he clamped it just and looked Clear straight in the eye. "Clear," he began with a nervous squeak, "Er, wanna play some two-on-two against these clowns?"  
  
Clear blinked, realizing her mouth was still hanging open stupidly. "Er, yeah," she mumbled, "That would be great."  
  
***  
  
Carter sat on his bed, a pouting expression on his face. So far, Christa and Blake couldn't come, neither could his best friend, Ricky. All his other friends were away. What would he do at this party? Dozer hated him already--he was definitely just some pesky high school kid to Mark and his friends.  
  
He looked outside his window, where Browning, Rivers, and the Wankers were playing a game of basketball. For some reason, just for a second, he forgot how much he hated each and every one of them and thought of joining them. But then he remembered--Alex had given him a bloody lip the night before, and Clear, Tod, and George stuck to him like flies on a toffee candy. They certainly were becomming tight. Four misfits.  
  
But looking into his mirror at his sad expression, Carter realized he fit in at Iroquois Lake as much as a bug in a burger.  
  
A loud buzz ripped through the cabin, nearly knocking Carter to the floor. It was music. The bass line was shaking the house. Carter slowly straightened himself up and peeked out his "door," where Mark and Dozer were setting up a sound system. Carter trotted up to them. "Hey, guys!" he greeted with a smile.  
  
Dozer and Mark nodded their greetings. Carter picked up a CD that was sitting on the speaker. He read the songlist. "Eminem... 50 Cent... Nelly? Nelly!? No way! People want punk music at a party! Get one with some Sum 41 or Andrew W.K!"  
  
Dozer smirked. "Carter, maybe people in Junior High like punk at a party, but would you rather have a hot sorority girl taking her top off to 'Hot in Here' or to 'Fat Lip?'  
  
Carter rolled his eyes. Dozer was huge, a pig, and though he was in his early twenties, he was still full of zits. No way would he have a stripping sorority girl by his side tonight. "What about outside? We need string lights, a bonfire, a few chairs--and what kind of cottage doesn't have a picnic table?"  
  
Mark crossed his arms at his cousin. "Carter, use your slimey little head! This party isn't going to be outside! Duh! Have you ever heard of cops?" Then he turned to Dozer and smiled. "Carter," he said, walking to his cousin, "We're gonna start mixing drinks. You can join us if you want... you just have to do a little favor for us a the party."  
  
Carter nodded. "What?"  
  
"Well, for the first twenty minutes... or so... you're going to be on cop watch."  
  
***  
  
Maralynn kepped waddling in and out of the house. "Clear?" she called, "You're sure you don't want a nice ham sandwhich for supper?"  
  
Clear shook her head and went back to the barbacue with Mr. Waggner. The two, plus the guys, were on the beach, grilling supper. Mr. Waggner was tending to his steaks while Clear was examining a grilling red bell pepper. "You're going to love red bell pepper butter," she told him, removing the hot pepper from the grill and removing the burnt spots, "It's great with corn!"  
  
She glanced at the guys, who were joking around at the boiling pot of corn on the cob, Clear's vegeterian alternative. "How are you guys doing?" she asked loudly.  
  
Tod stared into the pot. "They're, uh... cooking!"  
  
Clear slid the pepper into a baggie. "I'd better help them."  
  
"Good idea," Mr. Waggner agreed.  
  
Forty minutes later, the corn was revived, the steaks were ready, and Clear's red bell pepper butter was totally tasty. Mr. Waggner was eating his food on the dock, with a fishing line cast out. The kids were chatting at the table.  
  
"So, Clear," George was saying flirtaciously, "We'll come to your window at nine, okay? Be ready."  
  
Clear nodded. "Maralynn should be dreaming by then."  
  
Tod shook his head. "I'll be on landing crew. You're not getting me through there again!"  
  
Clear raised her eyebrows at Tod. "Why were you in there anyways?"  
  
"It's just something every guy does once in a while," Alex jumped in, covering for his friend, who's only excuse was he was a typical horny teenage boy. "He just wanted to surprise you!"  
  
Clear sighed. "Whatever. I have a feeling I'm going to surprise you guys at this party."  
  
No one had any idea what she meant, so, George, covering for the silence, cleared his throat. Clear looked at him, anticipating what he was going to say. Every second passed like an hour.  
  
He opened his mouth.  
  
"Pass the butter." 


	8. Chapter Eight: The Dark Side

Chapter Eight  
  
There were three words in the English language Clear Rivers never thought she would even THINK to herself, yet here she was, saying them outloud to herself, a huge smile on her face. She gazed into the mirror and repeated those magic words for the third time.  
  
"I look great!"  
  
Her hair was crimped, something that had taken awhile and was very hard to keep from Maralynn. (Whom she had said goodnight to a half-hour earlier.) The hairspray smell tickled her nose. Then she had dug around and found her nicest pair of capris--black jeans that went halfway to her ankles so that it didn't make her already-too-long legs look like trees. She was wearing a dark blue denim jacket over a tight black tank top. For a finishing touch, she slid in a red punkbelt. Her black running shoes looked really out of place, but maybe it would be dark enough, and how many people really looked at a loser girl's shoes.  
  
'Stop thinking about this way,' thought to herself, 'You don't have to be a loser. You can hang out with George... and Tod and Alex, of course.'  
  
George. Why was she thinking about him? Clear was more of an 'opposites attract' kinda person. She would have thought a guy as quiet as George wouldn't phase on her. Maybe not a guy as quirky as Tod or Billy, but maybe like a not-so-cocky Carter Horton. Or even Alex. A guy that was outspoken, a little on the edge, just someone with a little adventure. But then there was George. And he was just George.  
  
Clear shook her head and sat on her bed. She waited for her messengers while she read her favourite book, Tuesdays With Morrie. For a minute, a wave of fear washed over, almost worried that the guys wouldn't come at all and just wanted to get her hopes up. That was a familiar feeling with Clear. She always tried not to get her hopes up. It wasn't that her father had let her down on purpose when he had died, it was just that she always lost people just when she felt closest to them.  
  
She hugged her teddy bear, Leonard, thinking of how she would feel if someone close to her left her again. But now, there weren't that many people she could say that about.  
  
She shook her head and turned to her window. She was just in time to see Tod approaching the cottage. He looked like he was about to yell to her when she jumped out the window and landed with a thud. Tod looked scared out of his mind.  
  
"Jesus, Clear!" he cried quietly as Clear reached up and shut her window, "You trying to scare me to death? Couldn't you go... slower?"  
  
Clear smirked. "It's called 'being smoothe,' Waggner. Where are the others?"  
  
Tod motioned a big tree, where George and Alex were sitting nestled in the sturdiest branch. They jumped down as well.  
  
"Guys," Clear greeted, "We'd better be quiet. Maralynn thinks I'm tucked in with my teddy bear."  
  
Tod laughed softly. "Teddy bear... you sneak through windows and kick my ass at basketball. No time for Teddy Bears."  
  
Clear blushed, her embarassed expression hidden by the branch in front of her face. "Well," she said, putting her hands in her pockets, "We should go in through the back. No one will be there."  
  
Alex peered at Carter's cabin in the distance. "There's already a few cars there."  
  
They walked in a jumbled bunch, quietly chatting as they passed Clear's ever popular window. Then, rounding the corner by a huge oak tree, a body jumped down and landed in front of them. It started at the feet, with a pair of dirty Nikes, up to some baggy jeans, and finally, a baggy hockey jersey.  
  
Clear was easily startled, so naturally she screamed. Tod clamped his hand over her mouth. "Clear, you idiot!" he hissed, "Have you ever heard of 'open windows?'" He pointed to Maralynn's window, which was open. Clear looked with shock and then twisted herself away from Tod.  
  
"I don't think she heard us. She's a little hard of hearing."  
  
The body stood up. "What a welcome!" he said with a grin. It was Billy.  
  
"Fark!" Tod exclaimed, "Billy! Go away!"  
  
Billy shook his head. "No way man. I wanna crash this party! And I can't do it alone. Please? You guys are the only people at the lake besides Terry that are nice to me!"  
  
George's eyes grew huge. "Terry Chaney? Oh, yeah! She's, like, hot now or something! And she's here? Shibby!"  
  
Billy sighed heavily at George's expression, one that he had used just two days before. "No one says that anymore, George. And, yes, she's at the lake. She told me she was going to meet me here, but she just told me shes not comming. So I need allies."  
  
Clear looked at him simpathetically. "You know, you're good for shock factor. Maybe you could come along..." The guys were looking at her, slightly annoyed. "Come on, guys!" she told them hotly, "If you guys can put up with Tod, you can put up with me!"  
  
They shrugged dumbly and the five of them kept walking to Carter's cottage. They whispered pointless small talk. Then, they reached it. The tiny matchbox of a cottage! And there was a bit of a surprise when Clear swung herself up onto the window sil.  
  
"The only window is Carter's room!" she called down, "No one's in there, but... it's full of underwear!"  
  
Billy rolled his eyes. "Everyone wears underwear, Clear. Besides, now we know for sure weather he's baking brownies or not!"  
  
Clear, ignoring Billy's immature comment, hoisted her feet onto the sil. The window was opened, thank God that Carter was such a dumbass not to shut his window. She almost went back when a funky smell hit her nose, but Alex and George pushed her through the window.  
  
Clear landed on the bed with a thud. She glanced around. Carter's door was, for some odd reason, lying on the ground, and it was replaced with a hanging beach towel. He must have broken the door.  
  
"How is it in there?" one of them called up.  
  
Clear leaned out the window. "It's... weird. I don't think the five of us can get into the main area without getting noticed. Why don't I just get you guys some coolers? Then we can have fun without getting our asses kicked!"  
  
George rolled is eyes and jumped swiftly through the window, rolling next to Clear. "Clear, why are you chickening out?" he scolded, "We're here to crash a party, okay!"  
  
Clear looked at him longingly, a tear welling in her eye. "Sorry," she whispered. "I just don't see the point of all of this. And I'm really bad at this stuff!"  
  
George put his hand on her lap. "Just... do it. You don't even have to touch any alcohol or anything. Just have fun."  
  
Clear grinned. "Okay. Let's go!" She turned out the window. "Hey, guys!" she called down to them. But they were gone. "Guys?"  
  
***  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Carter fumed, "This is MY party!"  
  
He had dragged the three guys to the porch, where he was sitting alone on cop watch. So far, about twelve people had entered, no on paying any attention to Carter. Maybe when he kicked these guys' asses, he would earn some respect.  
  
"Your party?" Alex asked, looking at the lone lawn chair, "Looks like you're just a human security camera."  
  
Carter aimed his fist at Browning, ready to blast him when Billy stopped him. "Damn, Carter! Look at yourself! You're being a baby, here! Everything is 'Wanker' this and 'Queer' that and... Goddamn it! Just grow up! No wonder none of your friends are here!"  
  
Carter's first was about to fly at Billy, shutting up his screaming fit, but then he felt embarassed. He was a big baby, no matter how mature he thought he was and tried to be. He sunk into his lawn chair. "Fark," he muttered, "You're right. Look, go in the party all you want, but they're not to friendly in there."  
  
Tod looked at Alex and Billy suspiciously. "What do you think Clear and George are up to in there?"  
  
***  
  
Clear finished off the cooler, nearly sucking out the last drips from the bottle. She had only had one bottle, but she was already getting silly. Just a little. But she didn't notice when George slipped out.  
  
She didn't know why the people let her stay there. She was pretty tall, but she didn't actually LOOK older. Either way, she was kind of having a goood time. She had met a few people, just talked her way around the room. But now, as someone forked her over a Molson, it seemed like the crowd around her grew.  
  
After finishing off her can and getting a new one, she was getting dizzy. She wandered over to a recliner and plopped down. Maybe now she understood why so many people had a good time this way.  
  
"Hi, Clear!" squealed a happy voice. The pounding in Clear's head made the voice seem louder and higher. The voice was Terry's. Terry looked tired, but still perky, like she always was. "What are you doing here?" Clear asked.  
  
Terry did a little twirl, and Clear could tell she had had as much to drink as Clear did. "I had a fight with Erica. You know, I wanted to come here, she didn't, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, and now I'm here alone!"  
  
Clear stood up. "Then we'll have fun together!" She dragged Terry to the counter and they each grabbed a rhye and coke that Mark had mixed. "To being... uh, single... and... ugh, what's the word?"  
  
Terry giggled. "Independant," she told Clear, "I think it's independant."  
  
"Right! To independance!" They clinked their glasses and downed them like shots. A tall girl behind the counter leaned over to them.  
  
"How old are you two?" she asked as softly as she could, because the music was blaring really loud,  
  
"17!" Terry answered automatically.  
  
"16," Clear followed, not wanting to look too suspicious to this girl.  
  
"Cool," she said simply, "Wanna get your navels pierced?"  
  
Terry nodded with delight. Clear, shrugging inside, said, "Okay!"  
  
The next fifteen minutes were a blur, but by the time the clock struck 11, Clear and Terry now had red, puffy, but more importantly, pierced navels.  
  
***  
  
Alex, George, and Carter sat on the porch, sipping Cokes. George had left the party the second he saw Clear start to drink. He had a cousin that had died of alcohol poisoning, so he wasn't all that good around the stuff. Tod, though, went in for the good vibrations, and Billy just went where anyone else went.  
  
Carter hadn't yet been offered anything to drink, but he liked it that way. If he was going to be on cop watch the whole night, he'd better be sober. Alex was planning to go dry that night as well, because George claimed that Clear was drinking like a fish.  
  
"So," Carter said stubbornly, leaning back, "I guess we're not so different. I mean, I always thought I was a risk-taker, but I guess I like being better safe than sorry."  
  
George sighed heavily. "Yeah," he agreed, "Tod's gotten drunk once. And it wasn't pretty. The guy gives after like two beers."  
  
Then, as if on cue, Tod dashed through the door and to the lake. He looked poised to barf. George shot up and dashed after him.  
  
Carter leaned closer, watching Tod's silhouette as he knelt down and heaved into the lake. George patted his brother's back. "Man," Carter sighed, "I don't think people think of THAT when they think of getting drunk."  
  
Aled nodded in agreement. "What's so great about it? It just makes everything distorted, and a guy can do dangerous things when they're drunk." He looked at Carter, just making sure he didn't think what he said sounded corny. But Carter had a regular, plane look on his face. "Anyways," Alex said, sighing, "Maybe when I'm 17 I'll try it, but--" his thoughts broke off. He darted up, standing on the chair. "I think I see coplights. We have to get the others."  
  
George was now running back to the porch, Tod drudging behind him. "Guys!" Carter warned, "Get out of here. Alex says the cops are comming!"  
  
George nodded, took Tod's hand, and they ran to their cottage. "We'll be on the roof!" George called, "Meet us there!"  
  
Carter and Alex wasted no time. Alex burst in, quickly yelled, "Cops!" and dragged Billy by the collar out of the house. Around back, Carter climbed into his window and got Clear and Terry out. Terry was silly-drunk, whereas Clear was just drunk, and looked ready to heave like Tod.  
  
Alex and Carter met up, and ushered the three onto the Waggner's roof. Then, Carter and Alex climbed up the ladice to the roof themselves. In front of them were five tired, stressed faces. They layed down and watched as the cops escorted Marc out of the house. Carter had a worried expression on his face, probably thinking what would happen if HE got in trouble. But Mark looked very incoherant and just plain drunk.  
  
Alex squinted as he looked at the few people that had gotten away, running into the bush. Helping them didn't even occur to him, he just wanted to help out Tod, George, Clear, Carter, Terry, even Billy. He smiled.  
  
"Looks like we just avoided a close call," he told Carter as he smugly turned around. "Hey... where are Clear and George?" 


	9. Chapter Nine: Morning After

Chapter Nine  
  
George held on to Clear tight as she stumbled through the back of the woods towards the soccer field. "Sorry," she kept saying. "I just need to be... alone."  
  
George nodded patiently as Clear collapsed on the grass with a groan. "Man, I blew it!" she slurred angrily. He knelt down next to her and held her close. It was like baby-sitting someone. Only this person seemed more vulnerable. He knew, despite Clear's wishes, that he would NOT leave her.  
  
Clear layed back, her tank top riding up. George gazed at her stomach. "Clear!" he exclaimed, seeing the shiny stud in her navel, "What did you do?"  
  
Clear swung her head from side to side. "That? I got it punched in!" She laughed at something and then layed back down. The air was freezing cold. George took off his thick hooded sweatshirt and covered Clear with it. "Thanks," she murmured. Then she lurched forward and puked.  
  
George almost yelled. But he got up, bunched up his sweater, and watched as Clear fell asleep.  
  
He watched her for a minute until he realized that it was creepy, watching a girl he liked sleep and snore. He picked her up, tried to work the vomit out of her hair, and carried her away to her cottage.  
  
Clear was light, and she stirred in her deep sleep. When he reached the cottage, he nervously pulled her hair in an effort to wake her up. When she came to, she groaned. "Home already?" she whined hoarsly. George nodded and leaned to her.  
  
"Just climb in your window and go to sleep. You need it." Then just before Clear limply grabbed the window sil, he leaned over and kissed her.  
  
She kissed back.  
  
Then it ended.  
  
George closed his eyes, then opened them, seeing Clear in a new light. "Good night, Clear!" he called to her as she climbed up the window. She leaned out the window with a mischevious smile.  
  
"'Night!" she called, shutting her window.  
  
George stood there, long after she assumed he left. He still felt the kiss.  
  
***  
  
George and Tod crawled into their windows, calling to Alex, Carter, and Terry, who were all bunking up with them that night, to be in soon. Carter smiled at how everyone was taking him in like one of the gang after a screaming fit from Billy. Billy was also slightly drunk, and he was in the outhouse right now. So it was him, Terry, and Alex.  
  
Man, Terry was hot. There was a little glow from her, but maybe it was just because she was so giggly.  
  
"Carrrrrter," she said, mock flirtaciously, "Some party!"  
  
Carter nodded in agreement. Terry found this hilarious, and turned to Alex. Looking at him like a deer looked at an oncomming bus, she smiled and said, "Alex, I need some alone time with Carrrrrter, 'kay?" Then, without a moment's hesitation, she shoved Alex off the roof.  
  
Carter's eyes bugged and he leaned over, staring at Alex. Alex had landed in the garden, and didn't look too hurt. Just tired.  
  
"I'm fine!" he called to the two, "I'm gonna go inside, now. Alright? Don't wait up!"  
  
Terry giggled again. "Boy, he'll sleep tonight!"  
  
Carter nodded in agreement with a smile. He might have been getting signals from Terry, but it might have been because she was a lightweight at the time. He didn't want to take advantage of her intoxication, but he went for it anyways. He skipped the arm around the shoulder, skipped the kiss on the neck, and went straight for the huge, full-frontal snog. Terry leaned back and took it. Soon, they were making out, when Carter realized he was getting REALLY dirty, making out with a girl who couldn't even see straight. So he smacked one last kiss and ended it.  
  
Terry looked at him with fireworks in her eyes, and, just when Carter thought she would say something, she laughed instead.  
  
Carter sighed. Then he turned away from Terry, looking to the side and saw... Billy. And he was fuming.  
  
"Damn it, Carter!" Billy yelled, "Fuck! You were practically choking her with your tongue! What were you thinking? Jeez--Carter! You knew I liked her!"  
  
'Actually,' Carter wanted to say, 'I didn't. But thanks for telling me.' Instead, he said, "Back the fuck, off, Hitchcock, she can kiss who she wants--"  
  
"Actually," Terry said quietly, "YOU kissed Me. And--"  
  
"I don't care, Carter!" Billy was ranting on, "You should have known I've always liked Terry, and... why the hell did you KISS her?"  
  
Carter rolled his eyes. "Billy, I have TRIED since first grade to put up with you, but you're driving me crazy!" Then he punched Billy in the face.  
  
"Stop it!" Terry cried, flying to Billy's side. Billy looked at her coldly.  
  
"Whatever," he said hardly, trying to mask the pain in his face as he jumped off the roof and wandered into the distance. Terry watched sadly as Billy walked off. She might have been drunk, but she knew she had hurt the guy. And she knew she liked him, too. So what was stopping her?  
  
***  
  
The seven people woke up in three different places, with different feelings brewing inside them, different thoughts inside thier heads.  
  
Clear woke up in the guest bed, half-under the cover, dazed and confused. She smelled puke on her breath. She felt the cool dew from the grass on her cheeks, even though she had been in her bed for eight hours. But most importantly, she felt George's kiss on her lips. And that made her smile through the blinding headache.  
  
Terry felt Carter's kiss, too. And she still felt the revolt of his gross tongue, and how he was too agressive a kisser, when she woke up in Tod and George's room. She had never been kissed, but she had seen enough movies to know that he was NOT a swift kisser. She almost felt sorry for the guy. She was afraid to tell him--she was being like the Simon Cowell of kissing, here.  
  
But Carter was an idiot. Kissing her, when she liked Billy. Okay, so she never told anyone besides Erica that she liked Billy... and she had never told Billy that either. And she had hurt him so much.  
  
For Billy, the only thing that hurt more than seeing Terry and Carter kiss was the back pain when he woke up that morning. It was like his bones had melted. He woke up in a paddle boat on the wet sand. He stepped out into the water, sloshing some all over his socks.  
  
"Ugh," he murmered, when he realized something smelled like piss. He licked his lips... aw, gross! There was piss on his face! What had happened!  
  
He looked around frantically, seeing a large doberman taking a leak on a tree just feet away.  
  
"You little shitface," he growled, dashing to the dog. Of course, in his tired state, the dog easily outran him.  
  
Of course, looking at his watch, he realized he had slept through his first two hours of his morning shift. He wiped his face and ran straight to the tuck shop. Mr Baker looked annoyed as he served a few customers.  
  
Billy skidded through the door. He tried to pretend like nothing happened, but that was impossible.  
  
"Billy?" Mr. Baker demanded, shutting the window, "What happened to you?"  
  
Billy attempted to control himself. "I was, uh, sleeping, and, uh..."  
  
Mr. Baker sniffed. "From the smell of you, you were sleeping on a waterbed filled with piss! And... you're filthy! And you've got a black eye! And you're two hours late!"  
  
"I can explain--" Billy began, wondering how in all holy hell he would explain anything.  
  
Answering his prayers, an older girl knocked on the window. Mr. Baker slid it open. "What can I do for you?" he asked, disgruntled.  
  
"Billy!" the older girl squealed, "You work here?"  
  
Mr. Baker raised an eyebrow. "You know this clown?"  
  
"He was at Mark Horton's huge bash last night. Omigod, you were 'larious! I've never seen a guy drink so much and still be able to sing 'Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough' coherantly!"  
  
Billy had to laugh, but Mr. Baker looked at him with rage. "You were at that drunken party last night?" he demanded. Then, not hesitating for a second, he opened the door. "You're fired, Billy." 


	10. Chapter Ten: Things I'll Never Say

Chapter Ten  
  
Journals: Clear Rivers  
  
Things that went wrong with my life last night:  
  
1. I got drunk for the first time in my life and threw up on George Waggner's shirt. (For some reason, though, he wasn't wearing it.)  
  
2. My navel is pierced. When did that happen?  
  
3. I fell asleep freezing and hungover in a soccer field.  
  
4. For some reason, when I woke up, I wasn't wearing my bra.  
  
5. I have a terrible headache.  
  
6. I have no idea where Maralynn is, but I have a feeling I'm in a lot of trouble.  
  
Things that went totally right:  
  
1. George Waggner was possibly the most caring human being on the planet.  
  
2. He helped me sneak back in.  
  
3. He didn't mind when I threw up on his shirt.  
  
4. He kissed me.  
  
---  
  
Billy Hitchcock  
  
Reasons why life sucks:  
  
1. Terry kissed Carter.  
  
2. Carter kicked my ass.  
  
3. I fell asleep in a paddle boat.  
  
4. I got fired.  
  
5. A dog pissed on my face.  
  
6. I still have no way to get home.  
  
The bright side:  
  
1. I will definately get an A on my 'How I Spent My Summer Vacation' report. That, or an F for inapropriate content. But it'll be fun to write.  
  
2. The giant purple mark on my face just may get me some pitty from girls. (Namely, Terry.)  
  
3. I don't have to come to work--or go home--smelling like dog pee.  
  
---  
  
Alex Browning  
  
Things I learned last night:  
  
1. Clear Rivers is very sad when she's drunk,  
  
2. Billy Hitchcock can drink and drink and can still sing on key.  
  
3. Tod throws up after two drinks.  
  
4. Terry pushes people off roofs after a few drinks.  
  
5. Carter Horton isn't such a bad guy.  
  
---  
  
Carter Horton  
  
Reasons why people are crazy:  
  
Mark is crazy for thinking he got away with anything.  
  
Alex is crazy for helping me out last night.  
  
Clear is just plain crazy.  
  
Billy is crazy for thinking he could beat me up.  
  
I'm crazy for Terry. But I don't think she's crazy for me.  
  
---  
  
Terry Chaney  
  
Letters I need to write:  
  
Dear Clear,  
  
I promise I am as fun sober as I am when I'm drunk--let's hang out sometime.  
  
-  
  
Dear Alex,  
  
Sorry I pushed you off the roof. Really. If I hurt you, I swear I'll make it up to you. If it helps, I'm sure you got off lucky landing in the garden. You could have landed in that big pie of dog feces. Just don't ever bring it up in front of anyone or I'll do it again.  
  
-  
  
Dear Molson Company,  
  
Your beer makes people do the following things: have fights with best friends, get navels pierced, kiss someone they don't want to, get snogged by the class jock, betray people they like, fall asleep in a soccer field, find unexplainable grass stains on their favourite shirt the "morning after" and push people off of roofs. Oh, and it tastes like pee. Please make an attempt at manufacturing a Molson Cooler, I've noticed that they're incredibly popular, and adictive. Maybe with the introduction of coolers, you would make enough money to recover when I sue your asses.  
  
-  
  
Dear Erica,  
  
Fuck you.  
  
-  
  
Dear Carter,  
  
You're a sucky kisser and you're all hands. Just so you know. No hard feelings. I don't hate your guts, I just don't think I'll ever speak to you again. I mean, you're cool and stuff, but there's someone else I like.  
  
-  
  
Dear Billy,  
  
Sorry.  
  
---  
  
George Waggner  
  
Clear barfed on my sweater.  
  
She kept worried all night.  
  
I think when I kissed her I got some of her puke in my mouth.  
  
But I really like this girl.  
  
***  
  
Clear was scared at first. Terrified, wanted to run away and cry. She could barely lift her head, but she managed to stiffly pull on a presentable outfit, straighten her sticky hair out, and down about a whole bottle of mouthwash. Finally, when she looked like she had actually been sleeping all night instead of passing out in George's arms, she wandered outside.  
  
"Maralynn?" she called, knowing the old woman was there because her car was in the parkway, "Maralynn!"  
  
"I'm in the garden!" Maralynn called from the back. Clear followed the sound to where Maralynn was taking carrots out of the soil. "You look sick," Maralynn said sympathetically, "Are you okay?"  
  
Clear was about to insist she was fine, but the she went into thinking mode. She was probably the laughing stalk around the Waggner's cabin. Did she really want to see them? "Actually," Clear said hoarsly, "I feel like I've got a cold coming on. I'm going to go back to sleep, okay?"  
  
Maralynn nodded dumbly, obviously not knowing what was really wrong with her stepgranddaughter. Clear stumbled back into the cottage and pulled the comforter over her head, thinking of how she would show her face in front of, well, anyone.  
  
***  
  
Carter stretched awake. Everyone else was doing the same thing. For falling asleep on a floor, he had had a good sleep. Alex, who had graciously given up his bed to Terry, was next to him, also waking up. "Everyone here who's hungover," Alex mumbled tiredly, "Raise their hands."  
  
Tod raised one hand, looking sick. The guy was NOT strong under the influence.  
  
Terry raised both arms. "I wrote a letter in my journal to the Molson company last night complaining about their beer. It sucks. Maybe I'll send it someday."  
  
Tod looked at her with a raised eyebrows. "You were drinking like a fish last night--and not just beer. You were hoarding the coolers and mixed drinks and shooters like there was no tomorrow. But then again, I DID have three Electric Popsicles."  
  
Terry nodded with a small smile. "Those were good." Then she looked around. "You know, I have to go. I guess you guys want to do... guy things." Without saying good-bye, she ran out of the cottage.  
  
"What was that about?" George mumbled.  
  
"She's mad at me," Carter groaned, "'Cause I kissed her."  
  
Everyone looked at him wide-eyed. Then Tod began to applaud. "Yeah!" he exclaimed, "You are now officially my hero--the first guy ever to suck face with the new improved Terry Chaney--"  
  
"Well, she was drunk, Tod," Alex pointed out.  
  
"Er, yeah, I forgot... Anyways, Carter, how did it feel?"  
  
Carter shrugged. "I kind of forget it... but she didn't really kiss back."  
  
"Duh," George put in, always observant, "Haven't you seen her with Hitchcock? He gets all tongue-tied and awkward around her--moreso! And she gets this big smile, like he's just the cleverest guy in the world... and we all know he's not."  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter done! Wow, for once I feel like I've accomplished something! So here's a lil celebration feature:  
  
Fun fact #1: When I mentioned Clear chugging mouthwash, it gave me a good memory from someone else's experience--if you swallow enough mouthwash, it is intoxicating. I'm not sure how much will kill you, but about two bottles will get you good and drunk.  
  
Fun fact #2: Electric popsicles are a real drink, and real yummy! (Though I've only been allowed to have a few drinks, I am way too young to have a full one.) They're blue and easy to make at home.  
  
Fun fact #3: I'm not too sure about my source on this, but it apparently took 64% of FD viewers twenty-five minutes of the first movie to realize that Clear's name was not Claire. I was probably one of those viewers.  
  
Fun fact #4: I can count! 


	11. Chapter Eleven: Just Let Me Cry

Chapter Eleven  
  
Journal: Terry Chaney  
  
Man, everything today is going to be hard. I even though last night, when I was writing those letters, it would be like a comedy, where I would talk with Billy and he would laugh at something I would say, then I would have his attention, and tell him exactly how I felt, and, hopefully, he would say something like, "I feel the same way," and I would get my first REAL kiss.  
  
But so far, I've been walking around the lake, and I haven't found the guy. But I think I see SOMEONE on the floating dock... it's hard to tell. I'll probably end up swimming over there, before he does something stupid like try to drown himself. Oh, but I can't swim without a bathing suit, meaning I'll just HAVE to go to the tent and see Erica.  
  
Might as well call Dr. Kavorkian now to put me outa my misery.  
  
---  
  
Terry attempted to look happy, as if nothing had happened, when she unzipped the door to her tent. She was planning on saying a nonchalant, 'hey,' to Erica, grabbing her suit, not saying anything else, and then changing in the wash house. But she couldn't exactly do that when she found Erica, writing in her journal, several tears slipping down her cheek.  
  
"What's wrong?" Terry asked softly.  
  
"Go away!" Erica told her hostily.  
  
"No," Terry insisted, crossing her arms and entering the tent, "This is SO obviously about me. So now that I know that much, why don't you just tell me what's wrong and stop being so selfish."  
  
Terry could tell her words hit Erica like darts, and her chunky friend impulsively looked up at Terry. As if Terry was some sort of cyborg with eyes that could control someone, Erica couldn't tear herself away.  
  
"Ter," Erica said, almost ready to start sobbing, "Why did you have to ditch me last night?"  
  
Terry almost threw her hands up in exasperation. "Well, I recall you saying, 'Fine, if you want to spend your time getting plastered with a bunch of superficial dorks, go to the party!' So I went. With a bunch of superficial dorks. And guess what? I had a good time! Carter Horton kissed me! I got drunk, so what? I'm still here!"  
  
Erica looked at her as if the girl was crazy.  
  
"Fine, Terry, now I'll tell you what I'M feeling. Ever since I told you about not being... ashamed that you're skinny now, you've been partying, fooling around with Carter Horton, stringing along that poor guy that works in the tuck shop--it's not right! I betcha those guys in their cottage are talking about Carter snagging you, and how you're like a prize to them. Would they ever do that if you were still fat?"  
  
Terry almost growled. "They wouldn't do that... and Carter kissed ME! And I was drunk! Of course he thought I was sending him signals! God, it's almost like you WANT me to feel bad about my size--"  
  
"I do."  
  
Terry paused instantly, looking down at her crouching friend.  
  
"I thought if you were happy, you and I would have a good time. But I didn't think you'd meet those guys... so, just to let you know, yeah, I'm fuckin' jealous of your size, if I could have it my way, you would be four hundred pounds. But I don't have it my way, and you've got two boys wrapped around your finger..."  
  
Terry sighed heavily. "So this is JUST about my size... well, if you're really that jealous, I guess we're not as good of friends as we thought we were."  
  
Then she grabbed her swimsuit and left.  
  
***  
  
Terry had never actually worn anything more revealing than a tankini before, but the bikini sure was comfortable. She looked down at her pale stomach, hoping that one of these days, she could get a good tan. Trying to think of anything besides her fight with Erica, she waded into the water.  
  
It was cold against her skin, giving her goosebumps, but the only thing that chilled her out even more was Billy, sitting by himself on the floating dock. She knew that it was him, it had to be him! Billy was... well, he seemed like a sulker.  
  
By the time she was up to her neck in the water, she could tell that Billy saw her, too. She swam faster, wanting to catch him incase he left--but then again, if he "left," he would only be closer to her. The lake was incredibly small, more of an oversized pond.   
  
She swam closer, until she was about six feet from the doc. She stopped, shivered, and saw a tired-looking Billy in just his shorts, a wet t-shirt beside him. Terry almost smiled at how scrawny Billy was, but couldn't, because Billy looked so sad.  
  
"Hi, Billy," she greeted carefully.  
  
Billy's response was slinging his legs over and slipping into the water. He stayed underwater, the water sinking into his hair, his ears, anything. Finally, when he was water-logged, he surfaced, looking Terry in the eye.  
  
"Did you say something?" he asked immaturely.  
  
"Stop it," Terry warned, boarding the dock, "You obviously are embarassed about what you did last night. I would be, too. I mean, admitting in front of my worst enemy that I liked someone--"  
  
"I was drunk."  
  
"Barely," Terry corrected, "Billy, I don't care if you were smashed or what, you totally poured your heart out in front of me last night. And I don't think it makes you gay or anything," she continued, because Billy's face turned green at the 'pour your heart out' remark, "It just makes you... well, it makes you honest. So I'm going to be honest."  
  
She swung her feet in front of her, smacking a puddle and splashing Billy's face.  
  
"I like you."  
  
Billy rolled his eyes. "Really?" he asked, uninterested, "We'd better tell Carter that. I think I need some purple 'round my other eye. You know, for a sense of symetry."  
  
"Stop," she warned again, grabbing his wrist, "Or I'll drown you."  
  
Inside, Billy knew that she was joking, but the girl was strong, and he realized, she could do it! He swung himself onto the dock. "So you like me, for real? Or is this just a joke?"  
  
She smiled at him. "Totally real," she assured him.  
  
He smiled back.  
  
"Good. That's good."  
  
***  
  
Tod, George, and Alex half-expected Carter to go berserk when they saw Billy and Terry walking back to the cabin hand-in-hand. But, to their great shock, Carter sighed with relief and simled. "Good," they heard him breathe, "Good..."  
  
Tod pulled Carter aside. "What's so good about that?"  
  
Carter grinned. "The truth? I knew I had pissed Terry off, and if she didn't get with Hitchcockless, she would be totally harping on me for the rest of our high school years. Plus," he motioned Billy, who was tripping on his feet, "Hitchcock could use some 'guidance.'"  
  
Tod looked up at Carter and smiled, "Man, we need girls..." he looked over to a blonde, much too old for either of them, and about a foot taller than Tod. She was playing frisbee with another bombshell, a huge golden lab running after the disc.  
  
Tod, naiive and stupid, leaned to Carter. "What about one of them?"  
  
Carter couldn't resist that one. "I say go for it. If you can't get either one, I'd start to question your sexuality."  
  
Tod smiled hopefully and jogged over to the two older girls. He cleared his throat...  
  
"Ahem... Hi... my name is Tod Wank--Waggner. Tod Waggner..." he noticed he was still standing too far and neither of them heard him. But the dog did. The dog, his tongue hanging dumbly out of his mouth, trotted over to Tod. Tod looked at the dog suspiciously, while the dog concentrated on Tod's leg, which, for some reason, had incredible sexual appeal...  
  
The dog ran over to Tod and began humping his leg.  
  
"Aw, fuck!" Tod cried, trying to shake the dog off, "Get off, you horny little bastard!" The two girls noticed this and ran over to the dog, laughing.  
  
"Oh, my gosh!" the blonde one cried, "Ranger, get away from him!" The dog instantly listened to it's owner. Then she stared daggers at Tod. "What the hell are you doing here, shrimp?"  
  
Tod pointed to the dog and stammered, "I was just leg-raped by your fuckin dog! I think I deserve some sort of appology... or pizza..."  
  
The two girl rolled their eyes and scoffed at Tod's desperate attempt for scoring with these girls. Looking down, he shook his violated leg and walked back to Carter. "Carter, he growled, "You're dead."  
  
Then, Carter laughed. And George laughed. Pretty soon, everyone, including Tod, was nearly on the ground in hysterics. "Christ, Tod," Billy muttered through laughs, "You're the only guy I know who skips the pussy and goes straight for the bitch!"  
  
Everyone laughed harder at this. Finally, when Alex had practically pissed himself, they all straightened up. "You know who's missing right about now?" George asked suddenly.  
  
Everyone instantly piped up their answer--"Clear."  
  
***  
  
Journal: Clear Rivers  
  
Tomorrow I will be fifteen years old, and I am spending the day before my birthday faking sick like a little baby. Oh, I loved George's kiss, so why do I feel afraid of him? And Terry... we had so much fun, so why do I think she would never want to talk to me? Why am I waisting all this time asking myself 'why' when I should be telling myself what to do--and that's to Get Up and Get Over It.  
  
That's because I'm a big wuss.  
  
Great. The guys just came to the door, and Maralynn had to tell them that I'm 'not feeling well.' I'm sure none of them believe it for a minute. But I'd better close my window, just in case Tod tries to sneak through it.  
  
~~~  
  
How I wimped out in this chapter, I wrote it in a hurry. Here are more fun facts:  
  
Fun fact #5: In the original script, Billy was described as being fat? What? No way... Seann William Scott is NOT FAT! He's incredibly SEXY!  
  
Fun fact #6: Another Billy one, this one really bugged me--in the script, in Alex's first premonition, Billy never got back on the plane (remember, he was locked in the bathroom or something?) And, the original Billy Death was a lot more disturbing--they never actually filmed it, and you didn't see him die, either, but it was an accident involving his bike, and somehow he got his head impaled on a fire hydrant. Why must they forever attack his beautiful face?  
  
Fun fact #7: This one is more disturbing than fun... Kerr Smith is 31...  
  
Fun fact #8: Clear drives a Corolla.  
  
Fun fact #9: I'm drunk on Pepsi. 


	12. Chapter Twelve: The Way You Are

*Lil note of farkassery: Yes, you can, indeed get drunk on Mouthwash, it happened to a family friend of mine... but I'm not sure about the specific brand that is most intoxicating, I'm pretty sure it's Scope, though. Of course, I know to a point, it's dangerous, but the person didn't die. So go nuts!*  
  
*Second note of farkassery: I can't help but noticing I am pulling a SparklingDiamond and naming my chappies after my fave songs--so, in my epilogue, I'll list them, and force everyone to download the 'soundtrack' for The Lake... and I encourage SparklingDiamond to do it, too! Aren't I evil?*  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
Clear closed her eyes, something she always did when she played guitar, and felt around the fretts. She had been sitting on the bed all morning, trying to write the greatest song in the world. At last, the lyrics were spread out in front of her, and she was gonna start fooling around with a melody. She mashed her callaced fingers onto an e minor chord and strummed it angrily. The sound bugged her. It was obviously out of tune.  
  
"Man," she muttered, starting to tune it. Then she dropped her pick inside the guitar. "Damn it!" she cried softly. She tried to reach into the hole, but her "man hands," which people often teased her about, were too big. So she stood up and turned the guitar upside down.  
  
"Get out of there you little bugger," she muttered, and heard a knock on her window.  
  
She whirled around, dropping her guitar. Now, she was at a crossroad--let George in through the window, or tend to her possibly damaged guitar. For once, picking human cotact over her music, she rushed to the window and let George in.  
  
"George, what are you doing here?" she looked around him. "The others aren't with you, are they?"  
  
George shook his head no. "I just wanted to talk."  
  
He sat next to Clear on the bed, facing her, looking at her the way he did last night. "Clear," he began, shaking a little, "I guess it's no secret that I like you a lot."  
  
Clear nodded and smiled nervously. "I guess it's no secret that I feel the same way."  
  
"Yeah... anyways, I'm really bad at this stuff, and I never really thought I would have to do this, but I need to grow up... we're going to both be fifteen tomorrow, so, does this make you my girlfriend?"  
  
Clear's frown slowly turned up into a grin, until there was practically a light shining from her face. "Of course it does, dumbass," she said with a giggle. Then they kissed. Clear's heart started beating like a motor. Compared to last night's plastered good night kiss, this was magic. She kept kissing George. She was practically crying for happiness. She knew, George could take care of her. Be good for her... she needed that. Obviously, the one thing she had wanted for a long time was a father, but now she had a boyfriend... and for some reason, though it wasn't as awesome as if her dad could come back, it sure felt good.  
  
"Oh my goodness! Clear?" shrieked a voice.  
  
Clear broke away from George to see Maralynn standing, shocked, in the doorway.  
  
***  
  
George stood up straight, attempting to look presentable in front of Maralynn, who was obviously a very traditional lady. He was afraid to make any noise or sudden movement, considering the way this old lady was tearing into Clear.  
  
"... And I thought you were a responsible young girl, but you're an embarassment! Boys sneaking into your room, 'making out,' how do I know you two weren't going further?"  
  
Clear smirked. "'Cause we still have clothes on?" she tested.  
  
Maralynn fumed. "Don't get smart, Clear! And you, Mr. Waggner, you should feel very guilty. I'm going to have a conversation with your father." George made eyes at Clear that said, 'so what?' as Maralynn ranted on. "Clear, you're grounded. I only want to see you come out of this room at mealtimes, and I am going to make sure you don't sneak out again! Now, young man, you should leave before you cause more trouble!"  
  
George nodded. He almost took the window, out of impulse. But he decided not to get on the lady's bad side even more. Thinking quickly, he pretended to trip, while taking his cell phone out of his pocked and tucking it under Clear's bed. George, who wasn't as natural a klutz as his brother, didn't look too smoothe, but Maralynn wasn't even looking at him.  
  
He got to his feet and shuffled out of the house.  
  
***  
  
Carter, Billy, Terry, Tod, and Alex were sprawled around Tod and George's room, talking about randome crap, when George glided angrily through the door. Not saying anything, he fell onto his bed. He cursed under his breath and shut his eyes tightly. Naturally, everyone turned to him.  
  
"What happened?" Carter asked, "Did Clear reject you?"  
  
"No way," George told him, leaning over, "We made out... then I got her in major trouble. Her grandma freaked out on us, and now Clear's, like, grounded under super surveilance watch..." He sighed heavily again.  
  
Tod inched closer to his brother. "You made out with Clear? You are a freakin god."  
  
"Put a sock in it, Tod," Alex retorted, shoving Tod out of the way, "How are we going to have a huge three-way birthday party if Clear's not even allowed outside her room?"  
  
George smiled a little. "We'll figure something out. I DID leave her my cell so we can call her anytime."  
  
Terry smirked and grabbed her own cell (Why does everyone have them these days anyway?) and turned it on. "No time like the present."  
  
***  
  
Clear whipped her head around at the sound of a high pitched little melody. It was George's cell phone, she recognized the tune of the ringer, but why was it here? She followed the sound to under the bed, grabbed the cell phone, moved into the closet so Maralynn (who was drilling the window shut from outside) couldn't here and answered the tiny phone.  
  
"Hello?" she whispered.  
  
"Clear! It's Terry!"  
  
Clear beamed. "Terry? Was leaving the cell in my room part of some elaborate group plan?"  
  
"Whaddaya think?"  
  
Clear clicked her tongue. "I'm thinkin', you're a genius! Oh, my God, tell George I'm so sorry--Maralynn's a little ca-ca-coo-coo about boys... you know, I'm sure she'd sleep better if I became a dike."  
  
Terry cracked up. "Wanna talk to him?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Duh! You know who!"  
  
Clear smiled. "Of course I know who. I'm just yankin' your chain. Put him on." She heard Terry talking to George in the background. Then his voice came on.  
  
"Hello, Clear," he said, pretending to sound suave and sophisticated.  
  
"Why, hello, George," Clear told him, returning his tone, breaking into a giggle fit. Then she heard clicking. "Shit," she told him, "Gotta go. Maralynn's in to check up on me."  
  
"'Bye."  
  
Then she hung up and hid the phone in her pillow case. Maralynn opened her door to find Clear on her knees, pulling her guitar out from under the bed. Maralynn nodded, as if to say, 'Go back to what you were doing, as you need my approval for everything,' and left again.  
  
Clear looked down at her guitar, and began to strum some chords. She tried to sing the song she wrote about George. But it just didn't seem right. She pulled a pen out and changed the lyrics... into something happier.  
  
The Way You Are-copywright Clear Rivers 2003*  
  
VERSE 1:  
  
You can smile, and I'll never forget it.  
  
You say you're feelings and I'm blown.  
  
You could say that nothing else matters.  
  
And I'd believe that I'm home.  
  
It's not so hard to find the easy answer.  
  
You were with me when I'm torn, and worn.  
  
CHORUS:  
  
And I don't have to call, 'cause your there.  
  
I don't have to look too far.  
  
And you don't have to be someone else.  
  
'Cause I love you the way you are.  
  
You are my shining star.  
  
VERSE 2:  
  
I could take another step forward.  
  
And you would follow along.  
  
But I don't think I would go too far.  
  
It's never easy when I'm gone.  
  
It's not so hard to to believe what you're saying.  
  
You know how to keep me holding on.  
  
CHORUS  
  
Bridge chords:  
  
Am Dm G (x2)  
  
CHORUS  
  
CHORUS MELODY:  
  
I know I can trust you forever.  
  
I don't have to look too far.  
  
And you don't have to try to be different.  
  
I love you the way you are.  
  
You'll always be a part (of me.)  
  
CHORUS FADE  
  
---  
  
Clear smiled down at her work, thinking of showing it to George one of these days. Then she picked up the phone and called him, telling him to come to her roof that night.  
  
The days of the window were over... for now.  
  
~~~  
  
*=I wrote 'The Way You Are' last year, I wanted an opportunity to put in another song for Clear, and it's not formally copywrighted but a lot of people know it's mine. So NO STEALING! Or I'll be very very mad!  
  
No fun facts today, I am a fun-fact deprived child. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen: I Hope You Dance

The end is almost near. *sighs heavilly* But I will be here forever--and not just in your minds! I am shooting out stories like a batting machine. I will soon post a Freaky Friday fic (which I think will be in misc. movies) and perhaps one similar to Go Ask Alice (misc. books) but for now, I have another two chappies to write! So read 'em!  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
That night, after a barbacue supper that everyone had attended (with the acception of Clear) Terry had slipped away from everyone. Billy wanted to follow her, but she told him she had to so something alone. She had almost seemed afraid. Billy was a little worried, until, at around seven, he looked out Tod and George's window to see Terry striding confidently to one of the back buildings.  
  
Terry clutched her black leather jazz shoes protectively. When she had grabbed them out of the tent, Erica wasn't even there. She almost went to look for her, but she figured, who cares? The girl was totally jealous of her. And no matter how Terry looked, and friend who was a real friend would be happy. She shook her head and wandered up the wooden steps to the small building next to the wash house. The small wooden sign over the old door frame read "Rec Center."  
  
Terry cracked a smile and walked through the large door. The man at the desk was probably fifty or sixty. "Hi there!" he greeted with a smile.  
  
"Hi," Terry said softly, "I was wondering if I could use the gymnastics floor for one hour?" she thrust out a twenty dollar bill.  
  
"No problem," the clerk replied, accepting the money, "Not that many kids are into the athletics these days. It's good to see one like you."  
  
Terry flashed him one of her toothy smiles and took the stairs down to the gymnastics room. It was musty and empty, with a single window. That was the way she liked it. Terry removed her windbreaker, revealing her black leotard underneeth green baggy pants. She dug around and found an old cassette player. Popping one of her favourite tapes in, she muttered, "Go, me, go!"  
  
Terry had always dreamt of becomming a cheerleader. Of course, she was always to heavy, but now, she could really persue it. She had done gymnastics and dance lessons for some time, but had quit when she was thirteen. Now, with all this free time on her hands, she would have time for more practicing.  
  
The first song, an old 1995 'techno' song came on, and she stood close to the wall and went into a perfect handstand. She stayed in that position for a long time, thinking of everything. Erica, her ex-best friend. Billy, her boyfriend.  
  
She smiled at the thought of Billy, almost dissapointed that they hadn't kissed on the dock, but hoping to do it soon. A strand of blonde curls popped into her view, and her head felt hot. She went back to standing, then went into a limber. She stared upside down at the dirty floor, thinking of how she would rather kiss that floor than talk to Erica again. She pushed the angry thoughts out of her head.  
  
She collapsed onto her back and split her legs, her head touching the floor. The pain in her neck felt good. Good. Everything was good.  
  
Sighing heavily when a slow song came on, she stood up and went to switch the tape. But then, she realized, it was one of her favourite songs, Be Like That by 3 Doors Down. She decided she needed to dance for now.  
  
She started from one corner of the room and shassé'd her way to the other corner, ending in a scissor kick. Then she did her pas de bourées, each move getting faster. Finally, while she was on her sheané turns, her second time across the floor, she found herself coliding with a body.  
  
Her feet tangled in the other person's feet. They both stumbled back and forth until they were in a heap on the floor.  
  
Terry pried her eyes open and stared down into the other pair of eyes. "Billy!"  
  
Billy grinned and stood up shakily, helping Terry up. "Sorry I followed you... I was just thinking maybe you were upset."  
  
"Aww," Terry cooed happily, "You're so... sweet." She planted a kiss on his cheek.  
  
He planted one on her lips.  
  
***  
  
"She told me to go to her roof," George explained to Carter, Tod, and Alex, seconds before he pulled on his (clean) sweater and walked out the door.  
  
"Well," Tod began, sitting crosslegged, "He's got his night planned out. He's really into this one."  
  
Alex rolled his eyes. "I know, Clear's great, but I don't get the purpose of dating. I'm not sure about Clear, but the few girls I've ever dated were acting like they were married to me or something." He put on a high voice. "'Alex, don't do that in front of my friends.' 'Alex, be a gentleman and pay for my food which I'll probably not finish anyways because I'm convinced I'm fat.'"  
  
Everyone cracked up.  
  
Carter shook his head. "Yeah, girls are real slavedrivers."  
  
That second, Billy burst through the door. "I love girls!" he exclaimed.  
  
Everyone stared at him.  
  
"I just had the best ten minutes of my life. I got to see Terry Chaney dance, I kissed her, she kissed me..." he tossed his head back. "Thank you, God. Good things DO happen to bad people!" He laughed.  
  
"Yeah," Tod said dryly, "The good man upstairs sure meant well for me when he send the dog from hell to bump uglies on my leg." He was truly freaked out by it. "And I guess I won a real lottery when two hot college girls think I came on to the dog."  
  
Everyone laughed. Then Tod gazed out the window. "Oooh!" he exclaimed urgently, "My perv-o-meter is picking up signals--hot college girls entering wash house carrying towels... and the dog isn't with them!" He ran to the door. "If I don't come back..." he put on a patriotic look. "Remember me as a hero."  
  
They snorted laughs as Tod jogged out the door, and watched out the window while their friend walked covertly alongo the sides of the cabin. "He never learns, does he?" Carter asked.  
  
"Well, we've been friends since we were five. At this point, his antics are routine for me."  
  
They all laughed.  
  
"Okay," Billy whispered, "Terry'll be here in about fifteen minutes. Now that Tod's gone, we need to start planning their party."  
  
Carter smirked. "Fine," he whispered as low as Billy, "But maybe it would be easier if we all talked in normal voices."  
  
Billy's voice returned to norman. "'Kay."  
  
"Carter," Alex began, taking charge, "Tomorrow, check Marc's cabin to see how many snacks and stuff are leftover from the bash. And has anyone gotten any ideas on how to get Clear out of the cabin?"  
  
Carter raised his hand, as if he were in school. "I cooked something up with Mr. Waggner. He's gonna phone tomorrow and tell Maralynn he has a guitar that needs fixin'. Of course, Clear would jump at that, wouldn't she?"  
  
Alex nodded. "Her woodshop marks are through the roof."  
  
Carter continued on. "I'm sure Maralynn would let her go if Mr. W. asked, right?"  
  
They all nodded.  
  
"Good," Carter declared, "I am officially smarter than you guys!"  
  
***  
  
George stared at the wall of the cottage, thinking of how he would get to the roof. Jumping to Clear's window was no problem, but the roof...  
  
'Come on George,' he told himself furiously, 'You're not captain of the basketball team for nothing.'  
  
He set his eyes on the low roof, bent his knees, then sprank up, flailing his arms out trying to reach the roof. He sailed back down. He tried again... success! He latched onto the roof, his legs working frantically to grip SOMETHING. Finally, they pressed against the wall, and, with a great deal of struggle, he made his way up ontop of the roof.  
  
He looked around, searching for Clear. Would she actually join him up here?  
  
"George?" he heard someone say. He whirled around. "George, are you there?" the voice was Clear's, but it sounded like she was talking into a tin can or something. "If you're there, bang on the roof."  
  
George, following Clear, banged his hand on the roof.  
  
"Good! George, you're above my room. You can here me from the vent."  
  
He looked to the side where he saw a windvent. He inched closer to it.  
  
"George, I don't know if I'll actually SEE you for the rest of this trip, but, well, we can communicate this way."  
  
He smiled. "It's kind of cool. Like a secret mission or something."  
  
"Yeah," Clear agreed, "Listen, I wrote this song for you... I hope you don't think it's cheesy, but I'd really like to play for you."  
  
George beamed with pride, and, even though he didn't say anything, Clear could tell that she had made him happy, just from the vibe she was getting.  
  
"Okay," he told her, "Play." 


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Time To Say GoodBye

Welcome back, to the final chapter (minus the epilogue) the superawesome conclusion, and, the return of the highly anticipated FUN FACTS!!! Ooooh, the thought makes me want to write REALLY REALLY FAST!  
  
Chapter Fourteen  
  
Clear leaned her head against the wall, thinking of singing to George. She had felt so nervous, yet she did it anyways. And George had loved it. Her smile grew. Yet, she still felt like a prisoner in this room. She had been in there for about twenty-four hours. It was driving her mad.  
  
Through the walls, she heard the phone ring and Maralynn answer. She rolled her eyes. This was the first time in fourteen years when people actually called her--and now it was taken away from her.  
  
She looked down sadly at her dirty fingernails and then whipped her head to the door, where Maralynn had just burst in, holding the portable phone to her chest.  
  
"Clear, that was Jerry Waggner."  
  
Clear winced, preparing herself for another punishment of some sort.  
  
"He says he has a guitar that needs fixing and his boys said you would be able to do it... you may go, if you're back by dinnertime."  
  
Clear grinned. Great! An opportunity to see the guys! Plus, she would be happy to fix a guitar for Mr. Waggner. She always looked forward to having to fix something, to use tools, anything to keep her busy. "Thanks, Maralynn," she said gratefully, and gave her stepgrandmother a kiss on the cheek before practically dancing out of the apartment.  
  
'What a beautiful day!' Clear found herself thinking. The sun was bright in her eyes, the grass was dewy, the lake was calm and sirene. She jogged gaily over to Mr. Waggner's shed, where he was sitting on the bench drinking soda.  
  
"Hi, Clear!" he greeted. He opened the fridge next to him. "Watchya drink?"  
  
Clear looked at the large selection of pop cans. "Iced tea, please." He took out a can and tossed it to her. She caught it easily, then opened it to get a little bit of splatter in her eyes.  
  
"How have things been?" she asked carefully, wondering what he thought about her and George.  
  
"Great... the guys miss you. 'Specially George."  
  
"Tell him and Tod happy birthday from me!" she said quickly.  
  
"And happy birthday to you, too... what a coincidence, huh?"  
  
"Yeah... where are the guys anyway?"  
  
Mr. Waggner shrugged. "Tod and George went down to the tuck shop to buy some junk food... and I think Alex, Carter, Terry, and Billy are swimming."  
  
"Oh," Clear said, trying to hide her dissapointment, "So, where's this broken guitar?" she asked Mr. Waggner, attempting to get to the point.  
  
"Er, it's inside..." he stood up and stepped out of the shed. She followed his gaze to down the grassy path, where Tod and George were walking with a few bags of chips and each of them had a slush puppy.  
  
"I'll be one second," Clear said impulsively, and then rushed over to the brothers. "Hey!" she greeted, "Happy birthday, guys!"  
  
They both smiled, and George gave her a peck on the cheek. Tod grimmaced. "Spare me," he muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically. The long bruise on his leg proved that he hadn't been that swift last night trying to peep into the wash house, so, naturally, he wasn't in the best of spirits today.  
  
"So," George asked, "Is your grounding over or something?"  
  
"Maralynn let me out of that cage for an hour," she explained, "Your dad needs me to fix his guitar."  
  
Tod and George exchanged glances that read, 'Is she alright?' "Clear," Tod began, "My dad doesn't have a guitar."  
  
Clear nodded with surprise, and then looked suspiciously over at Mr. Waggner, who went over to them.  
  
"Er, I'm sure facts got a little bit mixed up..." he stammered, "Why don't you three come inside?"  
  
They all looked at one another and shrugged, as if to say, 'What else is there to do?'  
  
They followed Mr. Waggner down the cobblestone path, up the wodden stairs on the patio, through the oak door frame, and saw...  
  
A large banner with messy red and blue writing that read, 'Happy Birthday Tod, George, and Clear!'  
  
Clear gasped with a smile. Tod and George were also beaming, but trying to look as if they didn't care. Clear looked forward at Carter, Alex, Billy, and Terry, who were tossing balloons at them.  
  
"How did you guys have time for all this?" she asked in awe.  
  
"Simple," Alex told her, stepping forward, "The job of getting you out of the way was already done for us, and George, well..." he stared at his friend. "We know he's a real sucker for you. No denying. Getting Tod out was just dumb luck."  
  
Tod blushed sheepishly.  
  
Clear stepped forward and gave Alex a hug, followed by Terry, then Billy and Carter, who seemed a little surprised. Then Clear went back to George and gave him a big hug. He gave her a kiss. She blushed a little, feeling that everyone was watching them, but decided she didn't care and kissed him back.  
  
"Alright, alright!" Carter cried, "Let's get this show on the road and hand out the gifts!"  
  
"Gifts?" Tod asked with a raised eyebrow, "When did you have time for that?"  
  
Billy looked proud. "Why did you think I went home last night?"  
  
Tod laughed, and smacked Billy on the back. "Hitchcock, you're not as bad as I thought you were."  
  
Billy laughed, then plopped himself down next to Terry on the couch. Clear looked at his arm around the blonde and smiled. "Ohhhhh," she said knowingly, "I know what's going on here."  
  
Terry nodded with a grin.  
  
George jumped when a small package in blue wrapping paper was tossed to him. He began unwrapping it and tossed the paper aside like a child would. He opened the box and removed a long silver chain with some Asian symbol at the end. "Was this by any chance Alex's idea?"  
  
Alex nodded triumphantly.  
  
"Thanks, man!"  
  
Tod was next to catch his gift. He unwrapped it in the same manner as George and removed it from the package. It was an offensive T-Shirt... the kind he liked! It was black, and in really tiny, almost impossible to read white font, it read, 'Nosy little screweball aren't you?' Tod burst out laughing.  
  
Clear didn't expect there to be a gift for her, but indeed, there was! Terry chose the safe way to give it to her; she actually got up and handed it to Clear, telling her, "This one was a group effort."  
  
It was a flat backage, like a book. "Sheet music," Clear mumbled happily to herself. She carefully removed the paper, then gazed at the title of the song they all obviously wanted her to learn. The music was 'Come To My Window' by Melissa Etheridge.  
  
Clear beamed, laughed, and said, "Guys, this is really awesome..." once again, she gave hugs all around.  
  
"Okay, okay," Carter declared, taking charge, "Enough of this mushfest--now, we couldn't get a cake in time, but we got... ICE CREAM!"  
  
***  
  
Clear and George sat side-by-side on lawn chairs late that night. Mr. Waggner had phoned Maralynn and told her what was up, and, fortunately, Maralynn let her stay. Tod and Alex sat on the steps of the patio, watching sadly as Terry, Billy, and Carter brought out their bags.  
  
"I can't believe you guys are leaving," Clear told them sadly, dissapointed that she wouldn't be spending any more time with Terry.  
  
"I HAVE to go," Carter groaned, rolling his eyes, "My mom found out about Mark getting picked up and now she doesn't want me 'imposing' on you." His voice had more than a hint of sarcasm. "It seriously blows goats."  
  
Billy sat down on the ground sadly. "My folks got a call from my supervisor that I was fired--and they found out the reason why, too. So, needless to say, I'm grounded for life."  
  
Terry brought her last bag out of the tent. "Things just weren't working out," she sighed, "I mean, I would stay with you guys, but... well, you're GUYS."  
  
Clear stood up and put a hand on Terry's shoulder. "Sorry 'bout you and Erica," she told her sincerely, "I guess we all grow out of friendships."  
  
Terry shrugged. "Well she'll be kicking herself when I'm top of the pyramid at the fall pep rally," she declared with a smirk.  
  
Clear smiled back. "I'll see you 'round."  
  
Billy looked and saw the taxi cab comming. "See ya," he called as the three of them walked to the yellow car. "You wanna come with?" he asked pathetically.  
  
"Love to," George told him, "But we can't leave Clear alone."  
  
Billy scoffed with a smile and they all got into the cab. It drove away.  
  
"Man," Tod moaned kicking the ground, "What are we gonna do now? The next week'll be so boring."  
  
George and Clear smiled at each other. "I guess WE'LL be pretty busy," Clear said flirtaciously, more to George than to Tod.  
  
Alex rolled his eyes dramatically. "Wha' 'bout me and Tod?" he asked tiredly.  
  
Tod looked around the corner, and saw, the golden lab, rolling in the grass, staring at Tod. Tod gasped, jumping up. "I'll give you something to do," he told Alex, "You're gonna spend the next week keeping that thing away from me!"  
  
~~~  
  
It's........ OVER!!!! 


	15. Epilogue: DVD Features! Yay!

Epilogue  
  
As promised, people, here is a huge center of fun... and fun facts! Just so it looks official, I'll post them ALL here. (Note that # 11-15 were all found in a slightly earlier draft of the FD 2 script.)  
  
1. One can apparently get drunk on Mouthwash.  
  
2. Electric popsicles are a real drink, and real yummy! They're blue and easy to make at home.  
  
3. It took 64% of FD viewers twenty-five minutes of the first movie to realize that Clear's name was not Claire. I was one of those viewers.  
  
4. I can count!   
  
5. In the original script, Billy was described as being fat. Rediculous!  
  
6. In the script, in Alex's first premonition, Billy never got back on the plane (remember, he was locked in the bathroom or something?) And, the original Billy Death was a lot more disturbing--they never actually filmed it, and you didn't see him die, either, but it was an accident involving his bike, and somehow he got his head impaled on a fire hydrant. Why must they forever attack his beautiful face?  
  
7. Kerr Smith is 31.  
  
8. Clear drives a Corolla.  
  
9. I'm drunk on Pepsi.  
  
10. Aside from acting, A.J. Cook is also a dancer.  
  
11. In an earlier version of the FD 2 script, rather than have been killed by a falling brick, Alex died from the blade of a cieling fan going into his head.  
  
12. Originally, in FD2, the following names were different: Kimberly's friend Shania was Shaina, Kimberly's last name was Burroughs, Isabella's last name was Cruz and her husband, Marcus' name was Jorge. Tim and Nora's last name was Kesner, and Evan's last name was Schaeffer.  
  
13. According to script, Kimberly was a vegan.  
  
14. I never noticed, it might have happened in the movie, but the song Highway to Hell by AC}DC was supposed to play as big a part as Rocky Mountain High in the first one.  
  
15. Evan won $20 000 when he won the lottery.  
  
16. 'The Dog From Hell' was, uh... 100% my big brother's idea.  
  
---  
  
Soundtrack: The promised soundtrack for The Lake... hey, let's make it into a game! You can e-mail or review and tell me which situation in the story you think each song applies to... and you will get some sorta whacked out crazy prize!!! Okay, I'm just seriously urging you to download these songs, but who cares, try guessing. It'll be fun...  
  
Simple Plan: I'm Just a Kid  
  
Ashlee Simpson: Just Let Me Cry  
  
Melissa Etheridge: Come to my Window  
  
Pink: Get This Party Started  
  
Avril Lavigne: Things I'll Never Say  
  
Pink: Family Portrait  
  
Lee Ann Womack: I Hope You Dance  
  
Nada Surf: Popular  
  
Halo Friendlies: Me Vs. The World  
  
Phantom Planet: Somebody's Baby  
  
Kelly Clarkson: Before Your Love  
  
Save Ferris: Mistaken  
  
---  
  
Rejected Ideas: I had written up to chapter three before I decided I didn't want this to be a premonition story, just one about how the characters interacting with each other. Originally, I wanted TERRY (hello, random?) to have a premonition of a hurricane killing everyone, I had even written into it.  
  
Even this morning, (It's morning here while I'm writing) I wanted to make a chap. 15 taking place back at Mount Aberham, showing everything different. But I wanted to leave comical... with the dog!  
  
I considered one scene with Clear playing guitar on her roof, before she met the guys, but it seemed to cheese and cliché.  
  
---  
  
Special Thanks: Sparkling Diamond, for encouraging me... assuring how incredibly great I was! Yay!  
  
LC72, those emails were so nice, I hope your computer gets better (and if it's not better, you wouldn't be able to read this... uh-oh!)  
  
Dharke: For the wonderful compliment in your story, even though I hate 50 cent and eminem, intentions were good! Thanks sooo much!  
  
---  
  
Preview: I'm finishing up Death Opens a Window.  
  
I'm doing some original poetry that isn't posted yet.  
  
I'm stuck on chapter one for my Freaky Friday story, but it's still coming along.  
  
My idea for a Go Ask Alice story may or may not happen, haven't decided yet.  
  
I am currently writing an FD 3 story. 


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